Fifty Shades of Blackheart
by Sasha Cameron
Summary: Anastasia Steele seeks a favor of the great Capt. Grey for her friend and employer Lady Katherine Kavanagh. He is required to rescue Kate's brother from his French prison before the Earldom reverts to the crown. Neither of them bank on falling in love and this will only complicate the very dangerous and secret life that Christian leads. Definitely AU - set Regency London.
1. Chapter 1

Anastasia Steele stood facing her mirrored armoire with a feeling of utter despair. Fingering a rogue tendril of hair, she attempted to tuck it neatly into her hastily coiffed hairdo. It was of no use. She had already watched yet another tooth of her favorite bone comb fall to the patterned rug of her bedroom floor and she feared her ministrations were about to cause the loss of another one. The comb was an old favorite, ornately carved with intricate floral detail, a gift from her mother, reminder of better times and she could ill afford a replacement. Reflected in the mirror was her dearest friend and employer, Lady Katherine Kavanagh, who was currently sprawled in a rather unladylike fashion across Ana's bed, scribbling with intensity into the pages of her journal. Upon a heavy sigh from Ana, Kate looked up to see her fighting to bring her errant curls under control.

"Honestly, Ana, it isn't as though you are attending Almack's. Here," Kate tossed down her papers and stood swiftly, making her way around the bed to where Ana was barely containing her frustration, "let me." Kate lifted Ana's one 'good' bonnet from the stand on the dressing table and thrust it down upon her friend's head. With a few quick twists and tucks, she had Ana's heavy, dark waves carefully concealed by the navy blue brim. "There. Lovely."

Kate turned Ana back to the mirror where, to her utter amazement, Ana found that she did at last look vaguely presentable. A few pinches of her pale cheeks to bring forth a rosy blush combined with both the sky blue of her gown and the azure lining of her bonnet brought out the lustrous violet blue of her eyes. By contrast, Kate's peach skin tones and sea foam irises, remarkably framed by her obedient shining, gold locks, were complemented by the soft blushing pinks of her gown and hair ribbons. The two young women were quite the pair as they stood together facing the mirror. One fair with a graceful, confident allure, what some would describe as a classic beauty, the other dark and exotic, a mysterious mix of hidden passion and vulnerability. Their looks and demeanor were often commented upon by men and women alike, when they attended balls and soirees about London. Speculation was rife about their continued single status, neither young woman spoken for, nor were they particularly interested in the advances of prospective husbands. At 23, they were treated with respectful curiosity by the men and outright mistrust by young debutantes and their mamas. Young women who were avowed spinsters, and happy to continue from one season to the next, viewing proceedings from the shelf, should be unattractive at best and plain at worst. Neither Kate nor Ana could be described in such a manner so had become targets for scorn and mistrust. They did not particularly care for the high opinion of others, although they did not flaunt society. They were like-minded souls who were content with their lot in life, although Kate, by virtue of birth, was overly courted and fawned upon by the eligible bachelors of each successive season. While everyone was patently aware that The Honorable Miss Anastasia Steele was merely a paid companion with no expectations or titles of her own. Kate loved Ana as a sister, nonetheless, and was in no hurry to find herself a matrimonial match that might bring their current arrangement undone.

"Are you sure that you will be able to complete this task alone. The docks are no place for a female and I should never forgive myself if something were to happen to you." Kate fussed a little as she assisted Ana into her walking jacket. Frowning as she brushed at the slightly worn fabric, Kate refrained from expressing her desire to purchase a new one for Ana. She knew her dear friend would never accept such charity.

"We have discussed this, Kate. If you did not _have_ to call upon the Captain for this favor then you would not call upon him at all." Ana watched as Kate's eyes clouded with sadness and anger. Her friend hated that she had to ask anything of Captain Christian Grey and Ana did not blame her. His contribution to Kate's current predicament was something not easily forgiven. However, their inquiries had all led to one result, that the only man in London who could help them was her arch nemesis and that left Kate with no other option.

"I still hate that you have to go anywhere near the man. I despise him and would not wish his presence on my worst enemy." Kate had walked to the window, her arms hugged around her body, protectively. Ana crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her friend from behind. After a moment she felt some of the tension leave Kate's body. Kate did not take her eyes from the view. "Just remember, if you meet any resistance, remind him how much he owes me. He will give me this favor and then…"

Ana waited, and hoped that somewhere in Kate's heart there might be forgiveness. It was a vain hope.

"…then I never want to see or hear of Captain Grey again."

At the bottom of the stairs Kate turned Ana to face her once more presuming to check her attire.

"You must go straight there and straight back. Do you have the note?" Ana nodded and held up her reticule where Kate's letter was contained. So much depended on Ana gaining an audience and with it this favor. "Be careful, my dear, and… thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Ana kissed Kate's cheeks before turning to walk out to the waiting carriage. Luke Sawyer, Kate's coachman, groom and protective, loyal servant frowned at Ana as he handed her into the coach.

"I don't like it, Miss." Ana stopped on the step and turned to face him. This had been his mantra since Kate and Ana had discussed their plan with him. She placed a hand on his handsome face before settling into her seat. Luke had pulled the blinds down to give her privacy and protect her anonymity. Grateful, Ana found her entire journey to the wharves was filled with a curious mixture of anticipation and trepidation. As she got closer to her destination the feelings were amplified with the increased bustle of noise and the unseemly odours of rotting fish that assaulted her senses. Finally, she felt the vehicle came to a halt and, in the absence of a footman, waited for Luke to climb down and open the door to hand her out. As per their plan, the carriage had stopped in the merchant area some way back from the water and the wharves. It would do no good to have the Kavanagh crest appearing in parts of London that were less than salubrious.

"Are you sure about this, Miss?" Sawyer eyed her with some concern. He had enabled many unladylike trysts for Ana and Kate over the years, including midnight trips to Vauxhall Gardens to view the fireworks but he had argued vehemently with them about the wisdom of leaving Ana unattended on the wharf.

Ana looked at this servant who had become a friend many years ago. "Yes, I am sure. You must take the carriage back to the townhouse and I shall summon a hansom cab once I have completed my task."

"Have you done what I asked of you, Miss?" He glanced furtively around, checking that no one was close enough to overhear his inquiry.

"Yes." Ana fingered her locket, where she carried a copy of the missive that she would pass on to the right person if Captain Grey agreed to assist them.

"I don't like it, Miss Ana. I don't like it one little bit." He repeated, his concerned eyes pleading with hers. She knew what he thought but she was going to do it anyway. She placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

"Luke, I will be fine. Now go."

With a surly harrumph, Sawyer climbed back up into the drivers seat and encouraged his horses on, leaving Ana to negotiate her way down to the water to find her quarry. Taking care to blend into the shadows as much as she could, she kept her eyes focused down and slightly ahead, not engaging anyone on her journey. Her nerves were on high alert for pickpockets and footpads but she hoped that her plain attire would not mark her as a person who should not be here. Within a few minutes she had arrived at her destination and taking care to stand a few feet back from the dock, Ana peered up at the most magnificent ship she had ever seen. The Ruby Queen, with its sleek lines and tall masts, stood proudly amongst other boats that were moored at the docks, a testament to modern engineering. Ana was mesmerized by the panels of highly polished wood, the intricacies of hundreds of ropes, the crisp white canvas of the furled sails amongst the rigging and the sheer enormity of the vessel. She was beautiful and Ana felt at once impressed and intimidated. How could a captain of a ship like this be enticed to hear her out? Her insignificance was magnified as she approached the ramp.

"Here ducks. Where do you think you're going?" An unruly group of women stood to the side of the gang plank, obviously plying their wares to any unemployed sailors. Ana was a little taken aback by the salaciousness of their attire and the casual nature of their address but then she was hardly an example of the upper classes. Her eyes immediately went to her own slightly worn although thoroughly serviceable boots peeping from underneath an equally as ugly but functional gown. The colors suited her well enough but they were not much better than those of the whores albeit they were cleaner and more carefully mended. No, she did not think that they were addressing her socially as one might a newcomer to the local parish. By the narrowing of hardened eyes and the toothless sneers, she understood that they were eyeing her as potential competition. Ana blushed furiously at the thought and rather than engage with the women, she turned her attention to one of the sailors who was descending the gangplank with a heavy hessian sack thrown over his shoulder.

"Excuse me, Sir. Could you tell me where I might find Captain Grey?" The sailor barely halted long enough to look her up and down before he turned and grunted in the general direction of the ship's deck. Glancing up the narrow gangplank, Ana was at a loss as to what to do. She hesitated, placing one careful foot on the unsturdy looking wood as she reached a gloved hand to grasp the rope.

"If you're looking for Captain Christian, he's in his quarters, on board the ship. When ye get yerself aboard ask for Mr Taylor, the first mate. He'll see ye right." One of the more sympathetic looking women in the group, who may have held the traces of an attractive face beneath the grime, called out to her. Ana gazed back, a little confused at having found an unlikely ally. The woman smiled but the warmth didn't quite reach her eyes. At least she had all of her teeth. Ana tried to make her return smile a little more genuine before starting her ascent of the slanted boards. "Oh, and tell the Captain, that Miss Andrea is ready and waiting to give him what he needs. You tell him that I'll give 'im a spit and polish, lovey."

The other women clutched their stomachs, cackling with laughter as Ana pondered her words. Surely the crew would clean the Captain's rooms and boots. There would be no need of a woman's services on board a ship except for…oh! Ana paused at the top of the gangway and looked back down at the women who were thumping each other on the back with hilarity. Blushing furiously she collided with a solid body and had to step back a little to see his face.

"May I help you, Madam?" The stern look and fierce eyes almost had Ana scurrying back down the gangplank and Kate's mission bedamned. Then the giant of a man smiled at her in a kindly way and she knew that she had to at least try to see the captain. This man, clearly was not the captain. He wore a stern black dress coat of sturdy wool and dark gray breeches to match. He had the demeanor of a man who could take charge, there was no doubt about that. But he was eyeing her in a way that stated an assessment of worth, not a dismissal. With this man she still had a chance.

Sucking up all the courage she could Ana stood her ground and lifted her chin. "To whom am I speaking, Sir?" As formal introductions went, this one would have to do and she could see that he knew they should not be talking at all. However, she had stumbled on board his ship so she was not quite sure of the proper protocol. Barreling on with a semblance of authority and purpose seemed to be the right approach. Even if one felt neither purposeful nor authoritative.

"Mr Taylor, M'am. First mate. And you have stepped aboard the HMS Ruby Queen, finest vessel in the King's waters." Mr Taylor doffed his cap and bowed rather formally to her. Ana was at first a little awestruck but then quickly recovered enough to bob a little curtsy. "Now, how may I be of service?"

"I have come to see Captain Grey on a matter of great importance."

"And you are…?" His natural inclination to lean forward to hear her answer did not fill Ana with much confidence. His height and demeanor were already intimidating enough without adding proximity into the mix.

"Miss Anastasia Steele." Trying to remain defiantly confident, Ana straightened herself as tall as she could. It really didn't help.

"And what makes you think the Captain will see you?" There was a twinkle in the man's eye as if he felt that her sudden show of gumption was a cause for mirth. She didn't much like that he might be making fun of her but she did so like the warmth of his smile. And he did speak and act like a gentleman, which gave her some hope.

"I have a missive for him from my employer, Lady Katherine Kavanagh." Mr Taylor quirked a surprised eyebrow. He so very clearly recognized Kate's name, so that would be a good thing, would it not? Ana resisted the urge to cross her fingers behind her back.

"Well, a missive sounds awfully important, m'lady. Perhaps you should come this way." Ana found the chuckle in Mr Taylor's voice rather reassuring, if a little condescending. A quick glance around indicated that a few onlookers were mildly interested in her progress aboard the ship. At this point, Ana was more concerned about ensuring that she left the vessel in a timely fashion and in one piece. Just as she was about to follow Mr Taylor, she noticed a black carriage arriving down on the dock. There was something familiar about the crest but she could not quite make it out at this distance. She did, however, notice the flick of the carriage blind. Mr Taylor had arrived at a set of doors to the rear of the ship and had turned to wave her through. His cough caught Ana's attention and she hurried to join him, casting one last look at the carriage before she passed through the doors.

As they descended the narrow stairs into the bowels of the ship, Ana found herself eager to note her escape route. The problem with remaining vigilante in this way, was that any sense of grace and decorum she might have presented to the world were lost the instant that she stumbled at the bottom of the stairs and had to be supported by her guide. Righting herself quickly she pulled away from his touch, an almost haughty expression on her face. Once more he chuckled, turning to amble ahead of her, down the long, dark, narrow corridor. That chuckle just might earn Mr Taylor a kick on the shin, Ana thought. He glanced over his shoulder at her as if he had heard her thoughts and she couldn't help but giggle. In spite of herself, she found she rather liked Mr Taylor.

Halting in front of two ornately carved doors, Mr Taylor's face became very serious. He straightened his jacket before knocking with the back of his hand. The resonant sound on the highly polished wood denoted quality and Ana's hopes that the Captain might be a man of some refinement were raised. Given the purpose of her mission here, she did not much like her chances of success but a little hope would go a long way in opening negotiations with some confidence.

"Come." A very masculine voice barked from the other side of the closed doors. _Goodness, so much force in one small syllable. _

"Captain, Sir. A Miss Anastasia Steele." The glare from the Captain caused Ana to step back into the shadows out of his sight. _Goodness me, this man is even more intimidating than his second in command._ There were no more reassuring glances from Mr Taylor as he cleared his throat a little before continuing, "Companion to Lady Katherine Kavanagh."

The Captain, who had been furiously concentrated in his writing, paused at the mention of Kate's name. Leaning back in his chair, the Captain studied Mr Taylor for a moment, then he replaced his quill into the inkwell on his rather expansive desk in a slow deliberate movement. Ana watched the path of his hand through the air, quite mesmerized by the control he seemed to be exercising, as if he was restraining his own impulse to hit something, perhaps a wall, rather hard. She swallowed. This did not bode well.

"I see. Bring her in, Taylor." In a flash of optimistic brilliance, Ana saw her chance to take control of the situation and with a bravado she didn't completely feel, she strolled determinedly past Taylor into the middle of the Captain's cabin. However, once she arrived there she saw the error of her ways as the Captain stood slowly from his chair. From his rather _large_ chair that was housed behind an even larger desk, that stood across from an enormous four poster bed. All of this reflected the extremely large man who was now striding around to meet her with some purpose making Ana feel quite dwarfed in his presence. "Lady Anastasia."

"Miss Steele." She immediately corrected. His hand paused and then extended again and she almost thought twice before placing her small gloved hand in his. In spite of his mistake, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss. She could swear she felt the heat of his lips through the fabric before she snatched her hand back. His grim expression gave very little away.

"My apologies, Miss Steele. You have me at a loss. I would have expected Lady Katherine. Why has she sent you, in her stead?" Tipping his dark head to one side as he cast an appraising glance, Captain Grey had the hard look of a man who had seen far too many campaigns. Only when Ana chanced a peek up into his cool gray eyes did she see that he was in fact, a much younger man than she had expected. Surely this could not be the Captain Grey of whom she had heard so much.

"Lady Katherine is indisposed and has sent me with a …request." Ana tugged at her reticule, struggling with shaking fingers to prise it open. Finally, she was able to wrest the parchment from the purse and she thrust the small folded note at the Captain. Raising one meticulously arched brow he reached to take it with what Ana could only think of as long and beautiful fingers. So mesmerized was she, that she almost forgot to release the note into his care.

Her embarrassment was palpable, as Captain Grey looked over her shoulder at Mr Taylor and gave the briefest of nods. When Ana heard the doors close, she understood that her self-appointed guardian had been dismissed and suddenly she no longer felt safe. No, not safe at all. The Captain waved her to a plain wooden seat without a word as he crossed to his own chair to read, enlisting the assistance of a small hurricane lamp. Ana perched on the edge of the chair, her hands primly clasped on her lap and glanced around the room once more. Apart from the overly large furniture, the room was quite sparse and incredibly… clean. Her mother would be impressed. Her mother would be attempting to marry her off… or worse. She thought it best not to consider the embarrassment that might ensue if her mother knew she was meeting in private with the great Captain Grey.

The tapping of his fingers on the table as he read played on her nerves. The longer he took to read, the more her chances of holding whatever reputation she had once presumed to preserve, diminished. Ana was quite sure the Captain was well aware of that fact. He probably relished it. However, given the nature of her mission, he would understand why Kate had felt compelled to send Ana in her stead, she was sure. Unaccompanied or not, the fate of Kate's brother was in his hands and it was vital that no one should know that she was here.

"Are you aware of the contents of this note, Miss Steele?" The depth of his tone rumbled through the floor, startling Ana out of her reverie. She inhaled a sharp breath when she felt her nether regions spontaneously clench at his voice. Mortified at her own response, Ana frowned.

"Yes, Sir." Kate had dictated the note to Ana late last night after they had returned from the ball. Kate, was exhausted and fretful over yet another round of fending off eager suitors. Some of their propositions had been quite unsettling, even ludicrous. It seemed that in the years since her parents had died the wolves had been circling in ever-diminishing circles and now the only person who could keep them at bay was at the mercy of the Captain's good graces. In short, Kate needed Captain Grey's rather notorious expertise to extricate her brother from France, post-haste.

"So you are aware that Lady Katherine has requested a favor?" Ana held his gaze as best she could. There was little that she didn't know about the predicament in which her friend currently found herself. She was also patently aware that Captain Christian Grey, although from a fine family, was in fact a bastard son and presumed to act like one. Young ladies, engaged in matrimonial pursuits from season to season, were mystified at the seldom seen Captain, often romanticising his existence beyond belief. Ana tried not to listen too closely but they had cast him as variously a master swordsman, a government spy and a cutthroat pirate king. Sitting here opposite the man, Ana could see why he aroused such speculation and she made a mental note that they had omitted 'mythological god' from their lists.

"Captain Grey, I have full knowledge of the request that Lady Katherine has made. It is her fervent wish that you should present yourself and your…friend…to her at your parents' masque two days hence. Once you have formally introduced her then she will no longer be in need of your services."

"And what makes her so confident that I can fulfill this request?" He crossed his thick arms across his body as he watched her with a considering gaze. He was beautiful in his stillness but like the calm waters of a tidal sea, Ana sensed that there were hidden and menacing undercurrents. To her horror, she found that rather than be afraid, as she should, she found him deeply attractive. This said very little about her taste in men.

"We have it on good authority that you can." Their primary source had been quite adamant that the only person who could fulfill Kate's request was Captain Grey. If there had been any other choice, then Ana would not be here.

"Why did Lady Kavanagh not come herself?" A dark and vulnerable look washed over his face, something that Ana almost mistook for remorse. Only Captain Grey, the great Captain Grey, had little use for remorse.

"I should think it would be obvious. She has her reputation to consider."

"Yet, you have no qualms about your own reputation. You must be a very dedicated friend. My apologies, paid companion, am I correct?" His question was uttered with such complete disdain that Ana felt the need to refrain from visibly showing the shudder that went through her spine. She had the feeling that if he sensed weakness, he would pounce on it. Once more she lifted herself bodily, seeking to find her own inner strength. His opinion of her status caused enough anger to give her confidence.

"It is honorable work for a woman of my station." Keeping her voice as level as possible Ana refused to demure to his accusations. Yet, the intensity of his gaze caused her to cast her eyes downward. She bit back the retort she so desperately wanted to offer and in doing so almost drew blood from her lower lip.

Across the room she heard a hiss, as if the Captain were in pain. Quickly raising her eyes she saw that he had indeed leaned back, his arms braced in tension on the arms of his chair.

"Please don't do that."

"Do what, Sir?" At once, he was out of his seat and moved to a position in front of her. Grasping her elbows, he lifted her from her chair and Ana was sure that, for reasons she could not quite grasp, the Captain was about to toss her unceremoniously from his cabin. She gave a small unbidden whimper of surprise and bit down harder on her lip as tears of humiliation at her impending failure pooled in her large blue eyes.

"Why did Lady Katherine not come today?"

"But, Sir, her reputation…"

"I am well aware of the tenuous hold Kate has on her reputation, Miss Steele." And there it was. The moment that Ana first knew that her heart had simultaneously engaged and been trodden on. The Captain had called her friend, Kate and Ana knew without hesitation that he held a tendre for her. Most men did. She blushed at her own disappointment. Of course, a man as compelling as Captain Christian Grey, belonged with someone like Lady Katherine Kavanagh. Only, Kate would not entertain a second thought for Christian Grey, unless it was to see him buried six feet underground. To say that she hated him with a passion would have been an understatement.

"You were sent to tempt me, Miss Steele and I feel compelled to send a message back to your employer that it will not work." Ana's focus, so recently on his highly polished boots, now shifted immediately back to his face. What on earth was he talking about?

"Truly, Sir, I do not know what I have done. Pray tell me and I shall ensure that it shall never happen again." Christian eased his hold enough to have her off balance and Ana had to place her hands on his chest to steady herself. The rock hard form beneath her palms shocked her and she looked down at her fingers, unsure that they were hers at all. Her full bottom lip sneaked beneath her teeth for a third time as she tried in vain to control the molten sensations coursing through her body. She had been held by men in ballrooms before but as a lady of limited means and dancing ability, never this close. She suddenly understood why young ladies who had completed a turn about the floor in a waltz felt compelled to swoon.

Christian for his part had a feeling that he had lost complete control of both this meeting and his faculties. He had specific knowledge of the predicament that Lady Katherine Kavanagh now found herself in and he had not been averse to being of assistance if asked. In fact, he had been quietly affecting his assistance for years even without her request. Now, however, he wondered if that was not a folly. Instead, of the feisty and tenacious Lady Katherine of his childhood, he was faced with her rather plain and wholesome companion, who by rights, should not have incurred any response in him. However, when he looked past her rather dowdy attire he saw a young woman of such beauty and allure that she stole his breath. For whatever reason, Miss Anastasia Steele, chose to hide behind her true self behind this plain facade. He had once seen her in Kate's company, across a crowded ballroom. He had thought her exquisite then, but not for him. Yet, here she was, on his ship, in his cabin, in his arms, her beautiful face aghast at his actions, confused at his words and he wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips that she insisted on mistreating.

Holding her more gently now, he could not explain why he felt so drawn to her. Her eyes were large deep violet blue orbs that peered at him from beneath thick, dark lashes. The dusting of liquid at the corners spoke of unshed tears, the pink tinge to her pale skin announced her embarrassment for sins she did not understand. She was small in his arms and he leaned closer to breathe in her unique scent. Lily and rosewater with a hint of cinnamon. As he did, her succulent lips parted in perfect supplication, the temptation too much for any red-blooded man to resist. Closer, and agonizingly closer, her eyes closing in anticipation. It would take a second to taste her. Just once.

This could not happen. He pushed her away from him and resisted reaching out to steady her as she stumbled. Turning away from her he clasped his hands behind his back. "Please leave."

His expectation was that she would do as she was told. To his surprise there was no movement behind him although he could sense her breathing. Perhaps, he had pushed too hard after all and she was quite without the wherewithal to take her leave. A quick glance over his shoulder was all he would allow himself, to check that the poor woman hadn't in fact ended up in a puddle on the floor. What he saw floored him.

Miss Anastasia Steele obviously didn't do humiliation and certainly not for a man like him. Oh, she could be polite and demure with the best of the well-heeled ladies of her class but she would not allow him to make her feel any less than her station. So when Christian chanced to glance at her, Ana was standing arms akimbo, working up a full head of steam. This he had not expected.

"Captain Grey. Your family association with Lady Katherine goes back generations. I understand that you might feel that it is not your responsibility to assist us in any way but I implore you to show some heart."

Her supposition that he, the bastard son of the Duke of Carrick, should do anything based on familial obligation was flawed. And he would tell her so, as soon as he felt able to turn around and face her without completely embarrassing himself. Breathing deeply, while her little foot tapped out a military tattoo on the floor, allowed him some space to bring himself under control. Eventually he turned to face her.

"Miss Steele. Familial obligation is exactly what I am trying my level best to avoid. I will assist Lady Katherine out of a sense of duty to her brother, my friend. If you or she had bothered to ask that particular question, you would know that my ship is being readied to sail in less than a week's time to France where I hope to extricate Lord Kavanagh from the Parisian prison in which he resides, myself. As to my wish to see you gone. Do not think for a moment that I don't know that my mother is behind your visit here today. I will not be maneuvered by you nor she, madam."

"Your mother? What does your mother have to do with any of this? Neither Lady Katherine nor I have seen Her Grace in months?"

Christian threw caution to the wind and stepped closer to the little fireball who stood so enticingly before him. The longer she stayed in his presence, the closer he came to throwing her on his bed and his mother could be damned. The look in Ana's eyes told him that she really did not know why she had been sent here. With cause to reassess, he flexed his fingers at his sides. If she was lying, she was very good at it and he would not hesitate to punish her. However, if she was telling the truth, then his mother had become more manipulative than he had ever imagined. A strategic retreat was called for.

"Be that as it may, Miss Steele, I will assume guilt until innocence is proved. Please tell Lady Katherine that I will attend her prior to the Ruby Queen's departure. This will most likely take place without much warning, that is unavoidable. The likelihood of my presence at Her Grace's masque is minimal but..." Anastasia Steele had opened her pretty little mouth to argue with him and he held a finger to her lips. Once more he found himself mere moments from kissing her, her siren's lure stronger than any other he had experienced in his life. The thought of holding her close again, in a waltz or a tryst, was a very strong temptation. One to which he would not succumb, for her sake and his, "…I will do what I can to arrange a meeting with Captain Blackheart."

When he released her, Ana stumbled backward with relief. She did not like the chances of Kate agreeing to receive him on any given day in the foreseeable future. But he had just promised her what she came for. A meeting with the pirate captain of the Black Diamond, Captain Blackheart. The informant who had brought them their best lead to date for locating Ethan, had been insistent that Blackheart was the only person who could effect a rescue. Now, after six years of waiting, it seemed that they were closer than ever to bringing him home. The tears of relief threatened.

"Taylor will see you out." He heard her move and as an afterthought added, "I presume that you have a carriage and a companion outside this door, Miss Steele." A statement, not a question.

Mr Taylor stepped into the room upon the mention of his name. How odd? "No, sir, Miss Steele arrived on foot. I presume that she will need some assistance to return from whence she came, safely. Our mutual friend is on the dock as we speak." A message had just been passed between the two men that Ana did not understand but the Captain let out a slight muffled curse.

Christian felt his anger rise quickly. If Ana had been sent to try him, then she was doing it rather well. When he glanced at her, he noticed how still she stood, a lady of great expectation. Then it dawned on him what Taylor was saying. That she had come alone. The Lady Katherine of his youth was a risk taker and a rebel but even in the midst of her most heinous schemes, she would never allow herself to be caught in an unladylike position. The fact that she would allow it now for someone for whom she held great love and admiration, indicated that Kate was not the woman that her family would have wanted her to become. It was up to him to protect Miss Steele, and there was no doubt that every bone in his body wanted to do just that. He strode over to a closet in the corner of the room.

"Summon the carriage, Taylor." Ana, who seemed unsure of what to do, turned to follow Taylor as he retreated from the room. "Not you, Miss Steele. You wait here."

His tone brooked no argument but he was quite sure she would argue just for sheer sport.

"I am quite capable of getting myself home in one piece, Captain Grey." She had such a sharp retort and he wondered if she ever thought before speaking her mind. Clearly not.

"This is not a subject for discussion, Miss Steele." He threw his great coat around his shoulders, shrugging it on with speed. Snapping up his walking stick, he stalked back to where she stood, ready to give him another verbal slapping. She was tiresome, and beautiful, and she totally confounded all of his good sense. More than that, he found he was intensely angered by her actions in coming here today. Unreasonably so. In fact, he didn't trust himself alone with her right at this moment but he would not chance her taking any more foolhardy risks once she left his presence. "I shall escort you home myself."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My apologies to those of you who had become attached to Blackheart the way it was. I have had a little play with some plot points and character motivations as the story has developed and to get to where I want the story to go, I have given some characters a little 'shake'. I hope that you will agree with me that it makes for a more intriguing read. I value your feedback more than I can possibly say. This particular is very dear to my heart, as my love of romantic fiction began with the historical romance genre. If you see anything that needs to be rethought in terms of the history or the genre, please let me know. My research is imperfect. To this end, I would like to thank my Betas who act as critical friends and fact checkers. Ariadne, Vanessa, Vip and Barbara - I appreciate your input and support. To Wattle, Colleen and Contrite Shadow - who are just the finest bunch of Aussie ladies who sit in my corner and spur me on. And to the legions of romance and particularly historical romance writers who inspire and challenge. Hope you continue to enjoy.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Several seconds passed with Ana's jaw dropped open in shock before she came to her senses and snapped her mouth shut. _He could not possibly be serious._ No sooner had that thought entered her head than he had her by the elbow, physically removing her from his cabin. His grip was strong, somewhat limiting her ability to resist, although he grasped tightly without hurting her. All she could do was a rather ineffective scurry to keep up with his pace.

They approached the stairs and he released her elbow but kept hold of her hand. He continued on ahead of her, leading the way while blocking her vision of what was ahead. As they approached the final stairs, he all but hauled her up on to the deck, causing her cloak to fling back off her shoulders and the clasp of her jacket to slip open. Struggling to catch her breath had Ana's bosom heaving to the collective gasp of the sailors on deck. Captain Grey glared down at her, his eyes angry and disgusted. "Cover yourself, madam."

If he hadn't been so eager to remove her from his cabin, then she would not have had such a malfunction of her wardrobe. Turning her back on the crew as best she could, Ana fumbled to bring her fastenings back under control. When she turned back to him, Christian was breathing heavily, fingers flexing ominously at this sides. The look of a man who wanted to hit something, hard.

The carriage arrived at the dock at that moment but rather than waving her through, Christian grabbed her hand again, towing her down the gang plank to the jeers of the women below. Ana kept her head down as her blush rose, creeping up over her neck, to colour her fair-skinned cheeks. She was sure she must look like an overripe tomato. If he had thought to conceal her departure in any way, he was failing miserably, for now it seemed that every eye within shouting distance of the ship, was witnessing their unseemly departure. Ana no longer had the good sense to be anything other than mortified.

Once inside the carriage, she slunk back away from the window, hoping that no one was looking in their direction. Christian climbed in behind her, roughly pulling the blinds down before tapping on the ceiling with his cane. She made several attempts to begin to state her disgust at his behavior but each time she found herself biting back the words inside her head. The sheer arrogance of the man was beyond her experience. She simply could not speculate what had possessed him to manhandle her into his carriage in front of half of London? Subtlety was obviously not his strong suit. Finally, she could remain silent no longer.

"Captain Grey, I do not appreciate being treated like some sort of … of … wharf-side doxy. You, Sir, are no gentleman."

"No, madam, I am not. And if you care for your reputation at all, it would serve you well to remember that in future." The ice of his voice sent shivers down her spine. Ana understood now, that although he had been stern in his cabin, the undercurrent had held warmth. Now, the emotional temperature had dropped distinctly leaving her unsure what _she_ had done wrong. As far as she could see, the fault now well and truly lay with him. If he had left well enough alone, she might have been able to slip from his ship unnoticed with her reputation in tact. Thanks to _his_ over-zealous actions, her reputation, while earlier teetering on the abyss, was now well and truly in tatters at the bottom of a metaphorical cliff. She turned on him, her anger, before a simmering pot was now a boiling kettle, spitting and hissing within the confined space.

"My reputation is my own concern, Sir. It is your attitude that is uncalled for. I made my decision before I left Lady Katherine's house today that I would take some calculated risks in seeking your assistance but that they would be a very small price to pay in return for Lord Ethan's safe extrication from France. Your actions since I arrived on your ship have been far from helpful and may have exacerbated what was a carefully contained and small possibility. If you were so concerned about my reputation, you would not have rumbled about London's docks like an angry bear."

"I am not concerned about your reputation, Madam, although the disdain with which _you_ treat it warrants some consideration." His voice was far too calm for her liking. Bitterly and cuttingly cold, but calm as he stared out a window that currently held no view.

"We have already established that my reputation, and the way I choose to treat it, is none of your concern. Your actions as we left your ship have made that very clear. It is _your_ anger and disdain that is unwarranted, Sir. What, pray tell, has put you in such a foul mood?" He turned to her with a look that had her shrinking back in her seat.

"My foul mood is the direct result of your lack of care for your own safety, Miss Steele. Reputation is a tenuous construct that is constantly at the mercy of people with limited sense and questionable morals. But your lack of thought about your safety…" He returned to staring at the window blind, his hands tense upon his cane. So much so, that Ana felt sure it would break under the pressure. There was an intense roiling emotion beneath his tone that Ana could not quite fathom but she could see by the tremor of his hand and a slight but uncontrolled shake of his knee, that he was quite undone. She hesitated a moment before leaning forward and placing a hand over his. He turned his head at her touch, his eyes focused upon her hand. For the longest of moments she was aghast at the turmoil she saw in that glance. If she hadn't been looking at _the_ great Captain Grey, hero of the British fleet, then she might have thought it the fear of a small, frightened child.

"Christian, I would have been fine." Keeping her voice low and calm, she sought to reassure him. Instead, another wave of emotion washed over him. Clasping her hand in his, he pulled her suddenly to his side and she let out a small squeal of surprise as he bent over her, one hand supporting her neck while the other grasped her waist. His face loomed large above her and she gripped his shoulders as those full lips moved closer. Dark tendrils had escaped from his perfectly coiffed hair, dropping lazily across his forehead and threatening to cover his sight. She longed to move them out of his eyes, to stroke his sideboards and the shadow that extended over his jawline. His masculine scent, assaulted her causing her to close her eyes so she could concentrate on one sense at a time. When she reopened them, he was still looking intently at her mouth. Slowly, he raised his gaze to hers.

"You. Don't. Know. That." That fear flashed once more in his eyes and she understood instinctively, the root of it although she would be hard-pressed to express it in words. This time she did bring a gloved hand to his face and he leaned into hit, eyes closed, before turning to kiss her palm. Ana knew she should be shocked, she should pull herself from his embrace, but for the life of her she did not want to.

"I'm safe now. With you." She smiled in reassurance but his eyes closed once more as if he were in pain. When he opened them this time they were even more dark and turbulent than before, but there was less fear.

"No, you're not." His lips crashed down upon hers in an instant and Ana had to wrap her arms around the back of his neck to keep her balance. Instead of fighting him, as she should have done, she pressed her body upward to meet his. A groan rumbled through his chest and his tongue darted out to tease her lips. Ana's experience of kissing was non-existent but Kate had described the chaste kisses of her many suitors. This was not what Ana had been expecting. This was something quite extraordinary and irresistibly frightening. Her lips parted with enough of an invitation for him to slip his tongue inside her mouth. She told herself that she should be repulsed but her body was quite at odds with her mind. It seemed best not to think but to react, and every surge of his tongue had her slipping towards an uncertain point of no return.

Eventually the carriage slowed and they both became aware that the sounds and smells outside the closed doors had changed considerably. They must be in Grosvenor Square. Rather than stopping out the front of the townhouse, Taylor took it upon himself to guide the carriage to the mews at the rear. Inside the carriage, Christian and Ana pulled away from each other abruptly and returned to their appropriate seats. In silence, he assisted her to right her clothes and her bonnet, while she straightened his cravat and his hair, their movements startlingly domesticated. The complete lack of composure of the last few minutes was not acknowledged by either of them, as Taylor descended from the top of the coach, opened the door and handed Ana down. Christian followed immediately after and escorted her to the servants entrance at the side of the townhouse.

Glancing around, Ana ensured that no one was observing as she turned into his arms. She looked down at where her gloved hands clasped his strong biceps, suddenly shy. She mused that he must think her the worst sort of harlot for her behavior. She had shocked herself with her eagerness to partake in the kiss. There would not be a repeat of that kiss but she knew she would clasp it to her memory forever. Hoping for a smile, she glanced up to be faced with a look of such intense disgust that she had to step away from the warmth of his body. There was no trace of the passionately fearful concerned Christian from the last few minutes of the carriage ride. Nor could she see the authoritative and arrogant Captain Grey of the Ruby Queen. This Christian Grey was angry and disgusted with her. It was a look that she knew so well from her own mirror. Ana's eyes glazed with angry tears. Not at him, but at herself. How could she have been so stupid?

"Please accept my deepest apologies, Miss Steele. I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for my actions." _Oh, my God. He blames me and he is right to do so. I am not fit for the company of any man. _Ana felt the bile rise in her throat and the tears that threatened had become all but impossible to hold back but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"You need not apologize, Captain Grey. _Nothing_ happened of note." She fought to keep her voice as cold as possible, trying to convince herself that her words were true. His eyes widened with shock. "_Nothing at all_."

As quickly as she could, she escaped his presence and let herself into the house, shutting the door firmly behind her. In the small dark alcove, she leaned her back against the wood of the door, removed her bonnet and let out a sob as her body half crumpled to the floor. Clutching her chest, lest her heart fall from its mooring, she fought unsuccessfully to contain her emotions, crying with deep wracking breaths. She had completely lost control inside that carriage, allowing her rampant passions to rule her good sense. His disgust was completely justified and she had the terrifying premonition that she had handed him a weapon of her own making. No, she had no use for the type of reputation that he spoke of, but this…this was so infinitely worse. She sucked in air, trying to bring her shaking emotions under control. Finally, her tears abated and she calmed enough to straighten away from the door frame and ascend the stairs.

Outside the door, Christian leaned both hands on the door frame. He listened as she cried and berated himself. How could he have let the situation get so completely out of control? This was not a woman to be toyed with. In spite of her current employment, Anastasia Steele was a woman of great worth. And such passion! One who stood up to him, who took her friendships and loyalties seriously and who he felt sure would fight to right injustices. And he, the cad that he was, had taken advantage of her.

As punishment, he forced himself to stand and listen to every last tear, knowing that he was the author of her pain and by association his own. Suffering along with her until she found some release, eventually he heard her move away from the door. Now he would allow himself to suffer the even greater pain of letting her go. She was not for him. He had taken his commission as a second son should and that would have made him somewhat worthy of a lady of substance such as Anastasia Steele under normal circumstances, but since resigning his commission there were parts of his life that must remain secret. Parts that no citizen would or should understand or condone. Besides, as a bastard, albeit an acknowledged one, he was barely tolerated in society as it was and that did not bother him. But women like Anastasia Steele belonged in London's ballrooms and drawing rooms. If she were his, she would never be accepted. Surely a man like Lord Ethan Kavanagh would see her worth and give her the life she deserved. Ethan would be a far better match for the beautiful and passionate, Anastasia Steele. No, if Christian could not have her, he resolved to step up his efforts to rescue Ethan, as quickly as possible.

Just as this thought entered his head, another one came unbidden. Anastasia Steele had taken great risks to come to him today. The type of risks that a woman in love might take. She must already have some understanding with Ethan and her request was not only on Lady Katherine's behalf but on her own. How foolish was he not to see this before? She had returned the kiss that he had forced upon her, because she was desperate for her true love's return. Should he be successful in this next mission, he would never mention that kiss to his friend. And although his own heart might never recover, he would see to it that her heart was restored.

Turning from the door he stalked down the pathway to the carriage. Taylor was giving him that look, the one he often had to work hard to ignore. He hated to admit that his first mate was right. Self-loathing was such a large part of Christian's personal repertoire that Taylor's disappointed looks were hardly necessary. He knew what a cad he really was. However, not only was he evil and unworthy, he was also a fool. He had been played. She had done what she needed to get a result. And he had no one to blame as the author of his own downfall. Given another chance, he would likely have let her play him again, just to feel the passion of her body writhing beneath his. He was a fool.

"Take me to the club." Just as he was about to climb into the carriage he caught a movement coming from the square. Another carriage drove down the mews, passing his own and turning into the stables at the back of the Kavanagh property. A large man walked out of the carriage house a few moments later and gave some instructions to the stable boys who had come out to meet him. Christian replaced his foot on the ground and walked over to where the man stood by the fence. The other, seeming to sense his approach, straightened himself up to face Christian with a suspicious stare.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Christian felt his anger rising.

"Are you the one who drove Miss Steele today?" Christian would not take the risk of saying where. If she had taken a cab then the man need not know of her destination.

Luke eyed the stranger carefully and then glanced across to his coachman. It wouldn't be a fair fight but he was convinced he could take them both. "What business is it of yours, Sir?"

That was all the admission Christian needed. He grabbed Luke by the collar and threw him against the fence. "You bastard. You left her alone in the city?"

Those words chilled Luke to the bone. His hands instantly rose in supplication. If this man wanted to punish him then he would take it. He stared into Christian's eyes letting him know that he would not fight back.

Christian recognized the unconditional surrender as soon as he saw it and let go, allowing Luke to stumble back hard against the wooden fence rail. Just as Luke was about to straighten his stance, Christian pulled back his right arm and let go of a punch across Luke's jaw. His head snapped back and he stumbled once more, his hand grasping his face.

"Come on, fight back." Christian raised his fists and took a fighter's stance. Luke merely stood and looked at him.

"No, Sir, I won't. If you want to keep hitting me, then go ahead. I welcome it."

Christian held his stance, his eyes begging Luke to fight back. Luke knew when he was watching a desperate man and he almost wanted to help the gent out. Almost.

"Why did you leave her there?" The fist came out and connected with Luke's stomach. He double over in pain as he hit the ground and gasped out a response.

"Miss Ana would not let me accompany her to the dock. I waited and followed her down, anyways. It was only when your gent over there welcomed her aboard the ship that I took my leave. I kept the carriage exactly where she left me this morning, hoping that she would return to the same spot." Then Luke's expression changed to something less than approving. "When I saw you escort her off the ship…_Sir_… I followed you home."

Understanding his error in judgment, Christian swallowed tightly and straightened up. He reached out a hand and helped the servant up working through an apology in his mind. Taylor strolled up to assist.

"My deepest apologies, Mr…?"

"Sawyer, Sir. Lucas Sawyer." Humility was not Christian's strong suit but he effected it quite well on the occasion, having been so gravely in error.

"Mr Sawyer. I am afraid that Miss Steele's lack of a companion has had me out of sorts since she arrived on my ship. Once more please accept my apologies." Christian waved to Taylor who immediately pulled out a purse and began to count out coins.

"Sir, there is no need for your coin here. I've known Miss Ana for a very long time, Sir, and while it is not my place to approve or disapprove with her actions, I know there is little I can do to argue with her. She will do as she wishes. I do, however, take the care of my ladies very seriously." The unspoken words, 'especially in Lord Kavanagh's absence' hung in the air between them.

"Quite, but I would like to pay you for information." Luke looked shocked and then immediately angry. "No, nothing sinister, I assure you. I very much would like to know who calls on Miss Steele. Her suitors, if you will. And I would like to know who I should apply to for her hand."

Luke looked as shocked as Christian felt. He had not been aware of his intent until the words left his mouth. Not a few moments ago, he had vowed to leave Ana to Ethan. Once he located Ethan and brought him home. Now, as he faced this man, who had such loyalty to her, he knew that he could not let that happen. Come hell or high water, Ana belonged to him. The rightness of that thought coated him with the confidence of a man who knew the courage of his convictions. Christian supposed that he should be shocked at his own assertion but it seemed a little pointless. Ana would be his. There was no other way of it. Taylor wiped his mouth, hiding a knowing smile as he rocked on his heels. Christian would remember to swipe that look from his face the next time they sparred.

"Miss Steele doesn't have suitors as such, Sir. Only Mr Hyde." Luke screwed up his face in disgust as he spat out the man's name.

"Mr Hyde?"

"Yes, Sir. Mr Hyde is the distant cousin of Miss Ana's father, Sir Raymond Steele. He is also Sir Raymond's estate-manager." A complication, thought Christian, feeling his stomach churning at the fear of a battle already lost.

"Does Miss Steele have expectations where Mr Hyde is concerned?" Christian was not sure if he wanted the answer to this question. However, if Anastasia were to have already chosen Mr Hyde as her future husband, then he would not pursue his suit any further. Or at least, he didn't think he would.

"Goodness, no, Sir. Mr Hyde is a worm of a man, if I may be so bold. Miss Ana has the measure of him and would not entertain so much as a walk in the square with the man."

Christian breathed out a sigh of relief. "I see. Where would I find Sir Raymond?"

"During the season, Sir Raymond would most likely be found at White's, Sir." Christian clapped Luke on the back.

"Good man, Sawyer. I hope that you will send word to the Ruby Queen the next time Mr Hyde should call."

Luke grinned at the Captain. "Aye, Sir. That I will."

Ana made her way to her room, hoping to avoid both the servants and Kate for as long as possible. However, when she arrived it seemed that Kate had taken up residence on her bed again. Wiping the last of her tears from her reddened eyes with the heel of her hand, she crossed quickly to the armoire and poured cold water into the basin. She placed her bonnet on its stand and removed her cloak and walking coat, hanging both in the closet and then returned to the basin to throw cold water on her face. Kate eyed her patiently, without saying a word.

Eventually, Ana took the small cloth from the rail and dried her face, folding it carefully and returning it. Still Kate was silent. Unsettled, Ana turned to face her.

"Well, are you going to ask what happened?"

"No, thank you. You are crying. I can see that quite clearly. It is enough of an answer."

Kate's stoicism in the face of defeat was both endearing and frustrating. It was that quality that so often meant that she got the wrong end of very long sticks on many occasions. Ana decided to put her out of her misery.

"He has already committed to enacting a rescue himself. He plans to sail in a week's time." Kate looked up, a trace of bitterness behind her eyes. Ana eyed her thoughtfully, then continued. "He will also do what he can to gain you an audience with Blackheart."

Kate jumped off the bed excitedly.

"How on earth did you manage to get him to agree? Was he very resistant to helping us? Is he still arrogantly, intimidatingly good looking? Was he very angry that you had come to his ship?"

Ana sighed in frustration. Kate's mind was going in a thousand directions at once, as it usually did. The only thing that she seemed to hold on to with any sort of unwavering focus was her love for her brother and her hatred for Captain Christian Grey. "Yes, I met with him and yes, you are right. Handsome but cold and arrogant. He would not tell me the rescue plans. He indicated that he would visit you with more details before he departed. Other than that I have nothing to tell except that he could make no promises with regards to Captain Blackheart."

Ana thought of all that she was not telling her friend and her tears threatened once more. Kate's eyes widened. "Oh, my goodness. You're upset and you've lost your hair comb. Did something happen on the way back? Did you get attacked by highwaymen?"

Ana felt her hair and to her dismay realised that Kate was right. It had fallen about her shoulders and she had hardly noticed. She sighed in an attempt to change the subject. "Kate, I am quite sure that if one is attacked in the city that they are not highwaymen. And no, I did not get attacked because Captain Grey insured that I arrived home safely."

"But you were crying when you came in. My goodness. What did he do to you? The blackguard! Oooh, I shall apply to his mother, her Grace, and she will have words with him I'm sure."

"Stop! You will do no such thing!" Ana sighed and turned away before her tears started afresh. These tears would be ones of anger and humiliation not the desperate longing of a lonely woman as those she had succumbed to downstairs. Christian Grey was an arrogant man who deserved no more of her attention and Kate's incessant questioning would only ensure that she broke her own vow to herself. "I fell a little when I disembarked from the carriage. My ankle is quite sore and I have a headache. If you please, Kate, I would so very much like to rest a while."

"Of course, my darling. Here let me help you."

Kate took her hand and led her to the bed, assisting her to lie down. Ana allowed her to fuss for a moment before closing her eyes to shut out any further conversation. She heard the door close as Kate left and breathed a sigh of relief.

As she lay on her bed, Ana thought through the events of the morning. The intensity of Captain Grey had unsettled her, which she should have expected from a man of dubious reputation. If the ladies of the ton were to be believed, he had a harem of women waiting for him in foreign ports. Rumor had it that he had sired any number of illegitimate children around the globe. This was entirely possible but unlikely in Ana's opinion. The man kept no mementos of his travels in evidence on his ship. He held no nostalgia for the spoils of his campaigns. This seemed a little odd if the man held attachments of a familial kind. A frown marred her face. Perhaps the Captain cared little for these women and their children.

Summoning her memories she recalled how each man aboard the ship was occupied in his work. There was a quiet calm as bodies moved through their tasks which had enabled her to concentrate on her conversation with Mr Taylor. Mr Taylor was conservatively dressed; clean and well kept. The Captain himself did not wear clothes that would draw attention. Ana guessed that he did not need them to draw a woman's gaze. His height, his demeanor, his build, his unruly dark hair and his intense gray eyes were all that would be required for hearts to flutter and men to become jealous. Kate had regaled her with tales of young girls who had thought it wise to throw themselves in his path as a younger man. Before he joined the navy. She had described him as beautiful even as she railed against him. Ana knew that he was so much more than that.

Ana felt her face burn in humiliation at the memory of his advances in the carriage. The man was a rogue and a cad and she, being gullible and naive, had fallen for his advances. His anger at her was uncalled for. She was not his ward and he had no need to worry himself nor to judge her for the risks she had taken today. However, time was not on their side, if ever it had been. If Ethan did not return to England soon then Kate's very happiness and the fortunes of the Ravensthwaite Earldom were entirely in jeopardy.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later, Kate and Ana had settled in for a morning of rest, reading and embroidery when Reynolds, the butler entered. They were not expecting visitors, nor had they planned on going out, as the Carrick masque was tonight. The man looked around the room nervously causing Kate to put down the book she had been reading aloud and focus her attention on him.

"What is it, Reynolds? If cook has pitched a fit about the scullery maid again you must give her chamomile and tell her to breathe deeply."

"Yes, m'lady, but no m'lady. You have a visitor." Reynolds approached, the silver salver shaking in his hand. Kate glanced at Ana before picking up the card and reading it.

"We are not at home." Kate said firmly, as she replaced the card and waved the tray away.

"I am sorry, m'lady. This is unprecedented but the gentleman says he has most urgent business. He has refused to leave, m'lady." Kate regarded Reynolds and knew that the man had probably done all that he could to discourage their visitor. She paused a moment and then spoke.

"Very well. Please, show him in."

"Yes, m'lady."

"Oh, and Reynolds. Please let Sawyer know that we have a visitor. I should like to know that we have some assistance if necessary." Reynolds nodded and left the room.

"Hyde?" Kate nodded at Ana's whispered question. "What does he want?" Kate shrugged and both ladies turned in their seats to face the door. A moment later Reynolds opened it and announced Mr Jackson Hyde.

"Lady Katherine. How good of you to receive me at such short notice?" Jackson Hyde scurried across the room, like the ferret he was with a smarmy smile and his hand outstretched. Kate refused to take it for longer than a second, effectively releasing his hand while simultaneously pushing him away. The man simply had no sense of personal space.

"It seems that you gave me no choice, Mr Hyde." Kate also refused to smile at him. She knew it would only encourage him.

Hyde either ignored her rude remark or did not have the nuanced sense of sarcasm required to understand it and he turned to face Ana who visibly cringed at his approach. The odious little man did not read the subtleties of tone or manner so Ana had learned a long time ago to make her displeasure as obvious as possible. Apparently, he was less than observant today.

"Miss Steele, a pleasure to see you again." His wet lips landed on the back of Ana's hand with some force as he almost stumbled over his own feet to get to her. Then they lingered there and Ana had to pull away, leaving him leaning over his own empty hand with thick pursed lips. Ana shuddered as she placed her hand behind her back, hoping that his slime did not ruin the fabric of her gown. "You are looking beautiful as ever."

Ana's grimaced smile went unnoticed by Hyde. She looked at Kate who was smothering a giggle behind her hand. Somehow, they had to get through the visit as quickly as possible. If Hyde lingered longer than the customary thirty minutes then Reynolds was primed to interrupt and Sawyer would have moved the carriage to the front door. A ruse to ensure that Mr Hyde left. However, it necessitated that Kate and Ana don walking jackets and embark on a bogus journey to Oxford Rd in an effort to throw Mr Hyde off their tail. Ana had too much to do to get ready for tonight to be wasting her afternoon on such shenanigans. She started praying for a miracle.

"Lady Katherine, it pains me to be the bearer of bad news but it has come to my attention that Miss Steele may have committed a grievous sin that has sullied her good reputation and yours. My sources tell me that Miss Steele was down at the docks yesterday…unaccompanied." Pausing for dramatic effect and allowing his accusation to hang in the air was a tactic that Mr Jackson Hyde had obviously rehearsed at length before coming here. Ana was mortified that he knew anything about her at all and Kate was giving the best impression of a shocked employer that she could.

"Goodness me, Mr Hyde, that is a very serious accusation, indeed. Do you have any proof of Miss Steele's misdemeanor?" Kate clasped her hand to her bosom dramatically and Ana fought her own giggles. Kate was quite right. In the end, it would be her word against his and the tiresome little man was hardly a voice of influence around town. On the other hand, he was enough of a public nuisance that people might feel compelled to pay attention.

"I hesitate to say, Lady Katherine, but Countess Lincoln had cause to travel that way yesterday and saw Miss Steele in the company of that blackguard, Captain Christian Grey. Do you deny that you were alone in his carriage, Miss Steele?" Mr Hyde smirked as he delivered his source. Ana blanched. It was one thing for him to throw these words about town but a whole other to enlist the help of that evil woman, Countess Elena Lincoln. It must have been her carriage that had arrived at the docks yesterday. And although, she was thoroughly unlikeable, Ana was well aware that she was Her Grace, the Duchess of Carrick's second-cousin. Her words would carry weight with the ton.

"No, I was not alone." Ana lied as smoothly as she could. Technically she had not been alone.

"Oh, no. Of course. You were unchaperoned but you were accompanied by none other than Captain Grey himself." The smirk had not left Hyde's face which left Ana of a mind to slap it away. How dare he talk to her like this? Who did he think he was? "It is a terrible thing to have one's reputation sullied so. A young lady must have prospects but now, it would seem that there are none."

"Get out of my house." Kate's voice cut through the air, low and forceful. Ana felt some pride when she saw Hyde flinch. "How dare you cast aspersions on Miss Steele's good name? Get out now."

"Lady Katherine. Given your current state, you can ill afford to be harboring such a woman in your home. It has been years since your brother has set foot on English soil and the Earldom is likely to revert to the crown within the year leaving you destitute. Surely, you can see that your prospects ride on the good name of those who serve you."

"What are you suggesting, Mr Hyde? Miss Steele has been my friend and companion for all of the past five years since my parent's died. I will not see her put from my employment, no matter what the cost to my own prospects." Kate was vehement in her tone but Ana wondered if this was the wisest course of action. She could not be responsible for Kate being unable to find a suitable husband should Ethan not return from France.

"I do offer a possible solution. If I may be so bold." Kate looked at Ana with shock. And just as she made to move and protect Ana, Hyde sank to his knees. Ana looked at Kate willing her not to intervene. This truly was awful but they were best to let it play out to its logical conclusion before kicking the weasel out to the streets.

"Miss Steele … Anastasia…"

Just then the doors burst open and two rather large and intimidating bodies entered the room with Reynolds in their wake. The poor servant looked slightly at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. He looked across at Kate nervously.

"M'lady. Lord Elliot Grey and Captain Christian Grey."

"Lady Katherine. How delightful to see you again. Thank you so much for accepting our visit. My brother and I have been most anxious to renew our acquaintance, as has our mother." The tall blond man who looked like he could have been sculpted by Michaelangelo strode across to take Kate's hand and placed an overly long kiss there. Kate blushed furiously and Ana felt her mouth drop open, her hand still firmly held by the weasel on bended on knee. Christian stood at the edge of the scene with a look of pure fury aimed at Ana. She snatched her hand out of Hyde's, who shuffled around on both knees now to face the newcomers.

"Lord Elliot, I was delighted to receive your card." Kate's smile was far too wide. Obviously, she was pleased that Ana was about to be rescued but she had forgotten just how presumptuous and arrogant the Grey men could be. It all came flooding back to her as she spoke through gritted teeth. "Tell me, how is your mother, Her Grace."

A small whimper came from the floor as Hyde obviously realized whose presence he was in. He went on all fours, placing his hands on the ground so that he might rise to his feet. When he did, he barely came to Christian's shoulder and that realization caused yet another small whimper. Ana was so embarrassed at the whole scene that she could do nothing more than focus on the Aubusson carpet. Christian was here, with his brother and he had no doubt circumvented the most horrideous proposal from Mr Hyde. But why was he here? He had made it quite clear that she would not see him again. Her heart ached at the confusion of it all.

"Miss Steele, Anastasia." Christian moved past Hyde who almost tripped over the chaise in his efforts to get out of the way. "My darling, please tell me that you were not going back on our understanding?"

Was he serious? Understanding? What on earth was the man talking about? The audible gasp that came from across the room indicated that he had not spoken of any understanding with his brother. As for Kate, her eyes were shooting daggers across the room at Christian. This was all too much. Christian had taken both of her hands and was standing so close, too close.

"My heart would break into a thousand pieces if you denied our love and broke your promise." His voice sounded sincere but nonetheless Ana searched his face looking for the lie. Surely he was making fun of her? And surely he knew that making such a declaration in front of a man like Jackson Hyde would amount to their betrothal being announced across the ton before his mother's masque began tonight. If this was his way of saving her from Jack Hyde then the man was quite mad and she would have to save him from himself.

"Captain Grey. You and I have no such understanding. As to love, I think that you have misunderstood the nature of our conversation." Ana pulled her hands away and stepped back from both men. Suddenly, her life as a spinster had remarkable appeal. Perhaps she could gain a role as a governess on a country estate. Or the nunnery. Yes, the convent seemed like a very good option.

"There, Grey. See. Miss Steele was about to accept my troth." The man was whining in Christian's ear like a mosquito and he had a good mind to swat him as such. One decent slap would shut him up. Then he could concentrate on swatting Miss Anastasia Steele's very pert bottom for defying him. Here he was offering a perfectly good proposal of marriage, albeit a rather impulsive one, and she was turning him down. The woman had no sense. Unless this was about her tendre for Ethan Kavanagh.

"Mr Hyde, I thank you for what I presume was about to be a very kind offer but here too, I must refuse. You see, I have decided that I shall never marry. So your words are wasted." Christian's eyebrow shot up at her declaration. Never? Not even, Ethan?

"But…" Dear Lord, would the man not give up? She moved so that she could look quite directly at Mr Hyde so there could be no misunderstanding as to whom her words were directed.

"No. I understand that your offer was out of a sense of duty." She looked from Hyde to Christian pointedly. "Both of you. However, my mind is quite made up. I shall continue in service to Lady Katherine for as long as she will have me and then my future shall continue in other employment."

Both men were gaping at her like goldfish and she resisted the urge to reach out with a carefully placed finger under each jaw and snap their mouths shut before they caught a fly. What she saw next was a change from complete lack of comprehension to furious anger. From both of them. Captain Grey closed his mouth but focused his turbulent gaze on her. A flicker of movement at his sides told her that he was flexing fingers that wanted to throttle her. The thought of him exacting some punishment had the uncomfortable result of making her thighs clench together to stem her womanly juices. Good heavens, he was stunning in his anger and she was almost willing to prostrate herself now so that he could have his way. Hyde on the other hand was all vindictive malevolence that caused her to shudder in fear. Something behind his eyes had snapped and she worried that she had miscalculated the humiliation he was feeling at her rejection.

"Miss Steele, you are making a dreadful mistake, one for which you will pay dearly." His nasal pitch grated on her nerves and she found herself drawing away as he approached to take her hand. She could not and would not touch the man again. He paused, finally reading her body language and nodded, although his eyes never softened. He turned to Kate.

"Lady Katherine. I shall hope for the pleasure of a dance tonight." Kate also flinched, although her reaction was far more carefully controlled. She inclined her head but did not respond. Lord Elliot watched with mirth in his eyes and Ana wondered what he found so incredibly funny given the change of mood in the room. Christian stared at Ana with uncomfortable intensity. She in turn kept her eyes focused on Kate who was glaring at the door through which Hyde had just departed.

"Well, that was certainly interesting." Lord Elliot Grey broke the silence causing Kate to glance up at him. Their eyes held for a moment and Ana wondered what silent messages were being passed there.

"May I offer you and your brother some tea?" Kate, ever the gracious hostess, recovered her composure and rang the little bell summoning Reynolds.

"Why, that would be lovely." Elliot waited for Kate to regain her seat and then sat in the chair opposite her and languidly crossed his legs. His relaxed pose should have made Ana feel more at ease but she remained perched on the edge of her seat with her gaze firmly attached to her friend and Lord Grey. She knew very well that Christian had not stopped looking at her, his eyes boring holes into the side of her very flushed face. She also knew that Kate was a simmering volcano of rage disguised as calm sitting across the room from her. The fact that Christian Grey was sitting about to take tea in Kate's living room not lost on Ana. Kate would look at no one but Lord Elliot, and Ana knew it was a method of containing her rage.

The tea arrived and the conversation flowed between Kate and Elliot. Ana responded when she could but Christian said nothing at all. Elliot did not seem surprised by his brother's behavior and Kate ignored him completely. However, Ana was patently aware that this man, this beautiful man who she craved with every fibre of her womanly being, had asked for her hand and she had refused. Suddenly, she felt like a complete idiot and was in the process of mentally kicking herself when the visit was just as suddenly over. The gentlemen took their leave, Lord Elliot claiming the supper waltz from Kate before he left.

When the door closed, Kate turned and left the room, heading up the stairs without a word. Ana watched her friend go, knowing that she required time and space to calm herself. That did not diminish the worry that she felt for her friend. There were occasions in one's life that would always challenge, shaking the moral grounds on which one stood. For Kate, being in the proximity of Christian Grey was difficult enough, but to take tea with him, in her own home, while her parents lay in their watery graves and her brother rotted in a French prison, was far too much. Ana understood her pain better than anyone, having held Kate through the tears and sorrow of her mourning. No, Kate might grown enough in the past five years to understand that she needed his help, but she would never forgive Christian Grey.

Christian stormed out of Kavanagh House on wings of thunder. Elliot thanked the gods for his height and length of stride otherwise his brother would have been halfway to Manchester before he caught up.

"Brother, dearest, would you like to tell me what in God's name was that all about?"

Without breaking stride, Christian replied, "You saw it. The woman refuse my proposal."

"Yes quite, what I don't understand is why you felt compelled to propose in the first place. I thought we were going there to rescue a damsel in distress. I had no idea that you were going to ask the girl to be your wife."

Christian harrumphed. What could he say? He had no intention of asking Anastasia to marry him. But seeing that idiot, Hyde, on his hands and knees before her, trying to claim what was clearly his, had raised Christian's ire. He had been unable to stem his response and having made the proposal he had no desire to retract. Anastasia Steele might have claimed a battle today but she had by no means won the war. She would be his. He was a seasoned campaigner and he could out-wait and out-maneuver the most wily of opponents.

"I can see the cogs clicking in your brain, Christian. Tell me what you are going to do."

"I am going to White's. You can go to hell."

"Is that any way to talk to your brother? If you wish to go and hide in the club all afternoon then I will gladly accompany you. Just don't think you can use that excuse to blow off mother's masque this evening."

Christian paused on the pavement and regarded his brother. "Tell me, Elliot. Have you gotten over Lady Katherine or are you still as besotted as ever."

Elliot's mouth which had been smiling with barely contained laughter suddenly went grim. "You know that she is too young."

"She's almost on the shelf. Are you going to leave her there forever, brother dearest?"

Elliot blanched. "I cannot ask for her hand until Ethan has returned to speak for her."

As Christian recalled, Lady Katherine had no problem in speaking for herself. Be that as it may, he knew he was striking a very sensitive chord as far as his brother was concerned.

"Well, you may just have your wish, brother. The Ruby Queen sails in ten days and it is my fervent hope that Ethan shall return to our shores in a month hence. Perhaps less."

Elliot's eyes widened. "Captain Blackheart sails again?"

"Aye. But you shall not breath a word of this to mother or father."

"Take me with you." Christian did not know whether to slap sense into Elliot or laugh at him.

"You know that you cannot go on such a mission. You are the heir to the duchy. Father would string me up by the balls if he knew you were even contemplating such a dangerous mission."

Elliot chuckled, "Father would string you up by the balls if he knew you were Captain Blackheart."

Christian clapped him on the shoulders and the brothers continued walking.

"So why are we going to White's exactly?" Elliot asked.

"I have it on good authority that Sir Raymond Steele spends most of his afternoons there during the season." Christian smiled to himself when Elliot finally indicated with a well-formed 'oh' of his mouth, that he understood the purpose of their visit.


	4. Chapter 4

Sir Raymond Steele sat in a dark corner of White's nursing his brandy. When no one was looking, Wilkinson, the club concierge, would slip over with a fresh cup of tea, but for the purposes of appearance, something stronger was required. Sir Raymond flicked the broadsheet with each turn of a page, settling it on the table in front of him with a flourish and then raised a magnifying glass and began the process of carefully peering at the print. This was becoming increasingly more difficult and Wilkinson's incessant fluffing about with lamps was not helping matters much. Slumping back, Sir Raymond pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before continuing with his reading.

"Sir Raymond Steele?" The imposing dark haired figure, who stood before him, cast a shadow over the table causing Sir Raymond grimace. Instead of greeting the stranger, he waved him out of what little light there was still available. At least the lad had the good sense to get out of the darned way.

"The price of wheat is on it's way back up again, Wilkinson." The concierge paused mid-pour of Lord Entwhistle's tonic and peered over his shoulder at Sir Raymond.

"Is this a cause for alarm, Sir?" Wilkinson could always be called upon to ask a knowledgeable question.

"Of course not, this might actually help get a few estates back on track." Sir Raymond replied with a gruffly annoyed voice. One that said he was anything but.

"Yes, Sir. Do any of your tenants grow wheat?" The Grey brothers, who had been left unattended by either of the men looked back and forth between them with amusement. It seemed that for all his good points, Wilkinson might have become a little overly familiar with his patron.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure why the blazes they shouldn't. I shall have to check with Mr Hyde when he comes in. Send him to me when he comes in, will you?" Sir Raymond's focus remained on teasing out remnants of print from the blurred fields of his eyesight so he missed the look of consternation that Wilkinson gave to Captain Christian Grey.

"Yes, Sir Raymond." Christian raised an eyebrow in silent question to the servant who replied with a small shake of his head. It seemed that Sir Raymond might be living under some illusions.

"Now, you Sir. What do you want?" A little common courtesy would be nice, Christian thought. He glanced at Elliot who looked just as baffled by the older man's behavior.

"Sir Raymond, may I introduce myself. My name is…"

"Oh, confound it lad. I know who you are. You can tell that daughter of mine that I will not be returning to the country in the near future. Now be on your way." Christian's jaw fell open for a moment, while Elliot had the audacity to smother a chuckle.

"I think you might be confusing me with someone else, Sir Raymond." Christian leaned in a little with an uncharacteristic softness to his voice, thinking perhaps that a gentle touch and some ocular proximity might bring his mind back to rights.

"No, no, no. That woman is a shrew and and she will badger and beat me to bring her back to London. I will not have it, do you hear? Anastasia, of all people, should not want her mother anywhere near a London season with her incessant manipulations. She seems to think that her own daughter is chattel to be sold and I will not tolerate it. Not one bit."

"Your wife has tried to sell, Miss Steele?" Elliot had come to his sense and actually followed the train of Sir Raymond's rant.

"Oh, my dear sir, you have no idea what that witch is capable of."

"May I remind you, Sir, that you are talking about Miss Steele's mother." Christian took offense at the way the man spoke about his own wife. It wasn't at all seemly.

"And my wife of twenty-five years, Sir. I think I should know if she were a witch by now, don't you think?" Wilkinson had returned to top up Sir Raymond's brandy. There was always the hope that the old codger would quieten down and fall asleep. He'd been known to do that of late. Wilkinson had also brought snifters to Elliot and Christian who under normal circumstances might have waved them away but given the turn the conversation had taken, felt compelled to medicate their nerves. This wasn't going at all well.

"You say she tried to sell, Miss Steele. Could you tell us more?" Elliot had sat opposite Sir Raymond at the table. Christian knew that sitting would be a mistake and had moved himself to stand behind his brother. Perhaps, if Sir Raymond realised that Elliot was his brother, there might be some opportunity to make his case. From the harrumphing and gnashing of teeth going on at the other side of the highly polished mahogany table, he had grave doubts.

"That's what I said, wasn't it? She seems to think that Anastasia would snag the highest bidder amongst these awful manufacturing men from the North. There was that dreadful man from Nottingham, couldn't abide him. The one from Lancashire was not much better. Thought they could simply sweep in and purchase the gel for a few pounds and I should be grateful for their assistance. I don't know where she finds them. Now that my Anastasia is visiting with the Kavanaghs, she can't do any more damage but goodness, have you ever heard of such a thing. A lady of my Anastasia's standing, marrying some untitled businessman." Sir Raymond paused for a moment and peered through his looking glass at Elliot. "Good heavens. Are you by any chance related to the Duke of Carrick? I knew him in my youth. Did a spot of grouse shooting and salmon fishing with him as a lad and did you know that you're the spitting image?"

Christian felt his heart crash to the floor along with any hopes that Sir Raymond would grant his request. Elliot shuffled uncomfortably in his seat in a most ungentlemanly way. For a moment Christian wondered if he hadn't caught something from one of Miriam's whores. Elliot, to his credit, recovered quickly.

"Why, yes, I'm his son. Lord Elliot Grey at your service, Sir." Elliot smiled broadly and Sir Raymond was up out of his seat, leaning over offering one slightly gnarled hand. Without a glance or grimace, Elliot took it and shook, clasping it with his other hand. "It is a delight to meet you, Sir. My father has spoken highly of you."

"Has he indeed?" Sir Raymond looked pleased with the flattery. At first. A slight frown creased his eyebrows as he sat back down. "Well, m'Lord. What can I do for you?"

He looked suspicious and so he should be. To Christian's knowledge, their father had never mentioned Sir Raymond. Be that as it may, the conversation was settling into something he felt he could manage so he approached the table once more.

"May I introduce my brother, Captain Christian Grey of the Ruby Queen."

Christian offered his hand, which for an awful moment, he thought Sir Raymond was not about to take. Finally, with pursed lips and a deep look of consternation, Sir Raymond reached to grasp his hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir Raymond." There was very little confidence left in Christian at this present moment but his voice did not betray him. He ran over several possible approaches to his request in his head and none of them were arriving at the desired result. He had hoped to find a man who was a little desperate to marry off his only daughter, announce that she had been compromised and offer to make her an honest woman. Instead, he had the sinking feeling that that particular offer would be met by pistols at dawn, which although outlawed, Christian was certain that Sir Raymond would have conveniently forgotten that little detail.

"I take it that this is not a courtesy call." The shrewd older eyes flickered between the brothers, leaving Christian momentarily at a loss.

"Well, yes. I wondered if you would accept my mother's invitation to the family dinner tonight prior to her masque. You see, my brother here has had the honor of a chance meeting with your daughter at Lady Katherine's townhouse and has become, I'm afraid, quite unreasonably enamored. He has insisted on having both young ladies in attendance tonight and when I heard that you were in town I thought it would be wonderful for you to renew your acquaintance with my father and have you escort the young ladies."

"Did you just?" Sir Raymond was not exactly warming to Elliot. It seemed that he was fully aware when a truth was being stretched. Christian had to admire that and wonder how it was that the older man had ended up in such a predicament that resulted in Ana requiring paid employment. When he had said that Ana was visiting with Lady Katherine, Christian had presumed that he had been maintaining his pride. Perhaps he didn't know. The man was a conundrum and although a little confused, was far from the pushover that he expected.

"Sir, I am sorry to be so forward, but the lady has quite stolen my heart."

"Stolen your heart, eh? That doesn't sound like my Anastasia, not at all." Heavens above, it wasn't as if he was claiming that _her_ heart was engaged. Only his. For a moment Christian wondered if it were true but then disabused himself of that notion. She was a perfectly fine woman and there was indeed an attraction but not of the heart. He merely thought to rescue her, from Hyde, from her manipulating mother and her incompetent father. Only the man wasn't as incompetent as he had hoped.

"Sir, I don't want to overplay my hand, but I would like the opportunity to woo, Miss Steele."

"You're a Navy Captain, Sir?"

"Was, Sir. I continue now in service to the King but as a merchant seaman." The look of distaste on Sir Raymond's face at the notion of merchant anything would have been comical in any other circumstances. Christian was a believer in an honest day's pay for an honest day's work and had his doubts that Sir Raymond had done an honest day's anything in his time.

"But you are still attached to the sea, Sir, and my understanding is that she is a jealous and possessive mistress. I'm not sure that marriage to someone who indulges himself in long absences would suit my Anastasia at all, Sir. She is a free spirit, a loyal and dedicated servant to her causes and she lives with great passion. That is not for every man, Sir. No. No I don't know if you will do at all."

"Any wife of mine will live as much of her life on ships as I do. Of course, that won't be forever. I have property in Kent that requires my attention and more on the coast, where I should like to retire." Christian couldn't quite believe the words that were pouring out of his mouth as he attempted to sell the charm of his finer assets but suddenly it seemed very important, for reasons he could not quite fathom, that he should convince this man of his worth. Again, the look on Sir Raymond's face made him want to pull back the words and kick himself. In fact, Elliot did exactly that under the table. Of course the man would not want his only daughter to be condemned to a life on the ocean. What the hell was he thinking?

"You would have a woman aboard your ship? Don't you sailing types consider females bad luck?" And there it was. If he had been looking away in that moment, Christian would have missed that glint of humor in the older man's eye. Instead, he had seen exactly the moment that Sir Raymond's approval began to turn. He smiled.

"A ship is a woman too, Sir. A man is only at her service as he guides her through waters calm and rough, Sir. My wife would be as dear to me, if not moreso, than any ship."

"And her wild passions? How do you think to tame those?"

"An asset, Sir. Who would want to tame those?" There was a mild stand off. Christian wondered if Sir Raymond had tried to do exactly that and Ana's current predicament was directly attributable to her father's heavy hand. The man's answer put paid to that train of thought.

"Good, lad. You'll do." Christian breathed a sigh of relief. He had successfully brokered his marriage to Miss Anastasia Steele. Just as he was about to mentally congratulate himself the truth descended with the full weight of Sir Raymond's next question.

"I take it you have already asked her and she has accepted?" Good Lord. When Christian caught that knowing smile he knew all hope was again lost. How the hell did the man know? "It's perfectly fine, my lad. She refuses them all. You're nothing special."

Nothing special! Nothing special! Elliot's boot landed full force on his foot and pressed hard. He needn't have bothered. Christian had already drawn blood from his tongue.

"Oh, she refused. My brother does, however, have a plan to change her mind." He did? Christian looked at Elliot and then back at Sir Raymond and nodded. Yes, he did. And for Elliot's sake, he hoped it was a damned good one. "However, Sir, you might need to assist us in a small way." A sigh of relief left Christian's body. It seemed that Elliot had been putting that brain of his to good use. The discussion that ensued was one that he never thought to have with his future father-in-law but since he had never before planned on having one of those, it seemed fitting that the conversation be unusual. For his part, Sir Raymond was only too eager to contribute. Which was just as well because as Christian began to see just how much Miss Anastasia Steele took after her father, he began to panic that he would ever get her down the aisle.

Kate had gone into a state of apoplexy at the supper invitation that had arrived in the late afternoon. How could they possibly be expected to be ready for such an event at such short notice but as Anastasia took pains to remind, Kate, how could they possibly refuse. So it was, with great surprise to both of them, that Lady Katherine Kavanagh and The Honorable, Miss Anastasia Steele arrived at the mansion of the Duke of Carrick escorted by Anastasia's father, Sir Raymond Steele. To add to that surprise, there was no shortage of murmured speculation when His Grace greeted Sir Raymond like a long lost friend.

Kate giggled with barely suppressed hilarity as Sir Raymond and His Grace reminisced on their boyhood escapades but was quick to stifle it when Lord Elliot arrived at her side to escort her in to supper.

"Lady Katherine, may I." Anastasia observed as Kate, somewhat lost for words and blushing furiously, had her arm wrapped firmly around Elliot's. She went to follow when another familiar voice murmured in her ear.

"Miss Steele." There was no 'may I' in his request. Instead, he merely assumed and Ana fought the urge to cause a scene by pulling her hand away. The jolt of his touch was too much and her body stiffened but she continued to allow herself to be guided knowing that, at least, she would not have to sit with him. However, upon arriving in the dining room was thwarted by Her Grace who announced that precedent was being waived and that she hoped her guests would not take offense but indulge her on this auspicious occasion.

To her horror, she was seated near Her Grace, with Captain Grey on one side and her father on the other. Kate was opposite and seated next Lord Elliot. Her friend was by turns, flirting shamelessly with Lord Elliot while shooting daggers across the table and the Captain. Fighting for calming breath, Ana sank into her proffered seat with as much decorum as she could muster but managed to knock over a crystal water glass as she reached for it. Servants were quick to replenish and replace but her mortification was set.

The Duchess of Carrick reached past her father and touched Ana on the hand. "Do not trouble yourself, my dear. Upon my first meeting with His Grace's parents, I was quite flustered myself. I broke a priceless heirloom tea cup and thought that Her Grace would never forgive me." Ana swallowed hard and tried to smile.

"Oh, goodness Your Grace. She forgave you?" Kate took up the reigns of the conversation that Ana could no longer in all good conscience contribute to. She was very grateful for her friend's tenacity.

"Heaven's, no. That woman hated me until the day she died and I am sure it was all over that silly plate. That and the fact that I was marrying for love. Unheard of in her book and intolerable. So you see, in the end it didn't matter." Her Grace's laughter rang around the room taking all the guests within hearing along with her. All except for Christian who merely smiled with an eye on Ana and Ana, who could not lift her mortified eyes off the gilt patterned edging of her dinner plate.

"I'm sure you won't break it. And I know it isn't a priceless heirloom." His voice was reassuring but Ana was barely holding herself together. His kindness just felt like too much and a single tear snuck from beneath her lashes and to her horror splashed on the porcelain. He was simply overwhelming and having to sit next to him, knowing that this was all just fun and obligation to him, incensed her. Why did he feel nothing when she felt everything? Why did he have to kiss her and ruin everything?

To her credit, Kate kept the conversation lively and managed to include Ana from time to time but Ana knew that her friend was out of sorts and the strange comments between Sir Raymond and Her Grace were not helping at all. At least Lord Elliot was proving to be better company and a better ally to Kate than Ana could ever have hoped because both she and Captain Grey were of no conversational use whatsoever. Not that Kate had uttered one word to Christian since they had arrived. Ana felt herself becoming more sullen and silent as the evening wore on and Christian would not stop looking at her with overt concern. His intensity disturbed her equilibrium. If Her Grace was alert to the dynamic between the four of them, then she chose to ignore it.

"One would imagine that when one has the good fortune to have grandchildren running about the place, that there will be many sacrifices of one's finest dinnerware." Her Grace had returned finally to the topic of Ana's demise. She probably only meant well but it really was not helping.

"Do you have any grandchildren?" Sir Raymond asked. Ana looked at him as if he had grown a second head. Of course, she didn't have grandchildren. Everyone in London knew that Lord Elliot was both a scoundrel and a confirmed bachelor. Ana watched as a smiled spread across his face. Yes, that man would provide grandchildren but not legitimate ones.

"No, I have not been blessed, yet. Perhaps we shall have the good fortune to enjoy that particular first together, Sir Raymond." Ana blanched. Oh, my goodness. What was the woman thinking? Captain Grey hated her and Lord Elliot, as a ducal heir, would never marry her so unless it was merely a statement of convenient timing? Yes, that was it. Perhaps she thought that Ana would marry at the same time as one of her sons and both women would give birth simultaneously. Stranger things had happened but that would be particularly strange given that Ana, herself, was destined for spinsterhood. No, the world had gone quite mad and Ana was merely watching them all lose their minds.

"Oh, I do hope so, your Grace." Her father patted the Duchess' hand and Ana nearly choked on a scallop. The whole conversation seemed about her but without any inclusion of her opinion or desires. Christian handed her her glass of water and patted her on the back as he tried to assist. Ana was sure that the gates of hell were opening for her. She pushed Christian's hand away and in the movement managed to knock over a glass of wine. As she reached to save it, Christian upended his plate of scallops onto his lap. He pushed away from the table quickly but was now covered in buttery sauce and red wine. Ana's hands flew to her mouth and before she could stop them, a fit of giggles emerged. Christian gave her a look of disbelief and full fury that made her bite her lip and then he gasped.

Christian couldn't stay at the table. He was about to thoroughly embarrass himself by having some overly zealous servant touch him. And that woman, first laughs and then bites her lip? God, he was going to die. He stood rather abruptly, clasping the cloth napkin that he had managed to wrestle off a footman, in front of his groin and made his excuses. Laughter echoed from the table as he departed.

Ana watched as they all laughed feeling like she was having an out of body experience. She didn't think that he was offended by their laughter but it really did feel like they were all in on a joke and they had failed to tell either Ana or Captain Grey what it was. She had an awful suspicion that she was, indeed, the punchline. To make matters worse, the Captain did not return to the table, nor did he return to the masque. Ana would have hidden herself away as well, but there seemed to be an endless stream of partners seeking her out and she barely got a moment to herself. And where was Christian? Why had he not returned? Did he hate her that much?

Kate and Ana had just returned from the ladies rest rooms prior to midnight when a murmur went through the room. If they hadn't been passing Lady Elena Lincoln at the time they might have missed the cause. It seemed that a new guest had arrived and no one was quite sure what to do. He hadn't been officially invited but then he had a tendency to turn up where he wasn't expected and cause ladies to swoon and men to guard their pockets. So when Millicent Randwick, breathless, heaving and with a decided lustful twinkle in her eye, came rushing up to them and made her announcement, Kate and Ana were not completely taken by surprise.

"Ooooh, hold on to your reticules ladies. That dreaded Captain Blackheart has arrived!"


	5. Chapter 5

Contrary to what Ana had surmised, Christian had not left the ball. Once he had observed Ana and Kate entering the ballroom, he had joined his parents in the receiving line, ensuring that his mother could not chastise him for his lack of familial duty. Why she insisted on his being at her side when clearly two thirds of those attending did not want to acknowledge his presence at all, was beyond him. However, he loved the Duchess unreasonably and would never seek to deliberately disappoint her. He had learned over the years, that the ton might not want to admit him into their ranks but they would never deliberately disappoint Grace, Duchess of Carrick, either. Sometimes it amused him to watch them squirm; tonight his mind was patently elsewhere.

"Really, Christian, it wouldn't hurt you to smile." Grace spoke through her own perfectly open visage, her eyes twinkling under a delicate frame of sea foam lace, as Lady Myrston and her tedious son drifted on to the ballroom wearing matching peacock masks that looked for all the world like they might take flight.

"I do believe that it would be the most painful experience of my life, Your Grace, second only to listening to your outrageous conversations with Sir Raymond over canapes." The Grey men all wore understated silver-grey eye masks to match their dark green jackets and dove-grey breeches. Since they were all of a height and wore powdered wigs (their half-hearted attempt at dressing in costume for the occasion), they were easily confused by those who did not know them well. Elliot and Carrick both grinned at Christian, delighting in his discomfort, meanwhile Christian had plans that would mean he would not be joining them at 3am when their wigs would become overly hot and itchy, for which he was entirely grateful.

"Piffle! We were merely doing what people of our dotage tend to do. What else is left for me but to speculate on my lack of grandchildren? Speaking of which, when are you going to marry, young man? I shall be one foot in the grave and too old to enjoy your progeny if you don't at least make half an effort to find a suitable wife." Her Grace also wore a high powdered wig and a gown from the previous century, her waist cinched to show off the girlish figure she still maintained. She had toyed with affecting a French accent all evening until her daughter, Lady Mia, had pointed out that Marie Antionette was, in fact, Austrian and that the effort would be lost on their guests.

"Not for lack of trying," Christian muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Your Grace. Be assured, I shall marry when my brother does." Christian's announcement was loud enough for Elliot to turn and thump him in the arm.

"Boys! Really! Please show some decorum," the duchess hissed from behind her fan.

"Yes, mother." The young men chimed in unison while their father chuckled.

"You know, Elliot, your brother is quite right," Grace announced as Christian smirked at Elliot. His mother forcefully thwacked her fan on his shoulder causing him to yelp. "You really should consider your options carefully, this season. Your father is desperate to hand over the running of the estate to you and will not do so until he sees you settled."

"I don't know why he is in such a rush. He's hardly about to shuffle off his mortal coil." Thwap! The duchess really was far too liberal with her fan for Christian's liking.

"My father passed the responsibility on when we were married and his father before him. It is the Carrick way. Besides, you've been running the minor estates for the past five years, Elliot, there really is no excuse." Carrick's resonance brooked no argument.

Christian glanced at his brother behind their mother's back with a raised eyebrow. Yes, his older brother had proved he was perfectly capable to take up the reigns as the next Duke of Carrick but he was certainly not all work and no play. Elliot frowned at Christian, daring him to say anything. Christian chuckled then turned his attention back to the receiving line.

"Your Grace, divine as always." Christian found himself unconsciously stepping back from the line as Lady Elena Lincoln, dressed head to toe in black satin, leaned in to greet Her Grace with a kiss on either cheek. He noticed that Elliot did the same.

"Elena, my dear, thank goodness." The arrival of Lady Elena Lincoln usually signaled the official end of the formal part of the evening for the family. The lady in question gathered up the Duke and Duchess and swept them into the main hall, leaving Elliot and Christian standing with their sister, Lady Mia.

"I take it that you two don't want to come and join the dancing." Mia looked at them from beneath a perfectly arched eyebrow framed in a mint lace that matched her mother's mask in style and shape. Her dark hair tumbled elegantly in perfectly appointed ringlets over one shoulder and was woven through with delicate, silk violets.

"On the contrary, fair Titania. I would like nothing better than to share the first set with my cherished sister." Elliot ever the charmer tucked her arm through his and led Mia through the main doors with some urgency. Christian was grateful to be left to his own devices. He made his way up to the balcony and gazed down on the crowd below. His eyes searched for and found her quickly. Breathtaking. Ana was dancing a quadrille and the heated flush of her skin, accentuated by her Grecian lavender gown and matching mask, made her glow. Her dark hair was laced with seed pearls. Kate's work he would have to guess. A vision of removing each one had him grimacing with unwelcome lustful thoughts.

"Roughing it a bit, don't you think?" From nowhere, Lady Elena had appeared at his side. The customary shiver ran through his spine.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." He kept his eyes forward. Looking directly at the woman would give him a headache. She was the reason that Ana had found herself with not one, but two proposals of marriage, after all. He couldn't quite fathom what Elena had hoped to gain from spreading rumors about Ana.

"Lady Katherine's appendage. You know there is some speculation that their relationship is not altogether… normal. No one can quite understand why Lady Katherine hasn't married but then it would be difficult to find a husband of worth who might tolerate that sort of thing. Not right under his nose."

Christian drew in a breath. "First, you are telling Mr Hyde that Miss Steele has been ruined and now you are accusing her of God-only-knows-what with Lady Katherine? You really have no morals. What do you get from spreading such vicious untruths about people, Elena?" He deliberately dropped her title. She was a bitch and didn't deserve it.

"Oh, Christian, darling, I always find some benefit, don't you worry about that." She pressed in close to him, her body touching his from shoulder to knee. Lady Elena was known amongst his peers as forward. She had initiated most of them into sex as young men, after all. If his mother knew half of what her dear friend and cousin, Lady Elena, got up to, she would die.

"And that would be?"

"Open your eyes, my dear. Men lust after those two. They've dominated the season in their own sweet way, for more than four years and yet neither of them seem to notice their many suitors, nor do they care that half the men of the ton are falling over their own tongues to be of service to them. It isn't seemly and some of the younger girls and their Mamas are starting to complain." As they watched the dance changed and another young pup took Ana's hand, making her laugh as he led her into a country dance. The urge to go down there and stake his claim was overwhelming. But what was Elena saying? That Kate and Ana didn't have a natural relationship? If that kiss was anything to go by then Elena had no idea where Ana's passions truly lay. However, it seemed that this relationship with Kate was not as he had been led to believe. Ana had no shortage of potential suitors, regardless of Sir Raymond's financial position. Suddenly Elena had managed to raise to the surface, a range of questions to which Christian had not known he required answers.

"You speculate too much for my liking, Elena. You always have."

"Well, someone has to. Your brother has lusted after Katherine Kavanagh for far too many seasons. It hasn't gone unnoticed." Christian raised an eyebrow. He was well aware how Elliot felt about Kate but he had not thought the rest of the ton would notice, nor care.

"Do not think to meddle in the affairs of my brother, Madam."

"Oh, my darling. I am the affairs of your brother. If you had bothered to accept my card upon your recent return, you would have known that." With that Elena flicked open her fan and turned to make her way to the top of the stairs leaving Christian staring impotently after her.

Resisting the urge to follow and push the harridan down the staircase, Christian turned his attention to seeking out his brother. Elliot had long since handed Mia into the arms of the next young man on her dance card and was standing at the side of the ballroom talking to their cousin, Lord James Hartley. A quick signal of his head and both men turned to make their way to some unseen location. Christian took an alternate route and met them both in the library, away from the general populace. He turned to lock the door upon his entrance, ensuring them complete privacy.

"Christian, good to see you, cousin." James had the look of all the Grey men, with generous height and intimidating good looks. He greeted Christian with a hug, the fourth member of a tightly woven friendship group that had begun in childhood. Elliot poured his father's best brandy into three glasses, handing them to his brother and cousin. Whatever business they were about to discuss would not be done until a glass was raised to their absent friend, Ethan, who was never far from their thoughts.

"What news from across the channel?" Christian would get to the reason he had summoned them but this topic always took precedence.

"There have been some developments. Haverstock has found Ethan's location and this time we know it is definitely him." James removed a stained and crumpled parchment from his pocket and passed it to Elliot. "Our contact managed to obtain this."

Elliot peered at the paper carefully before handing it to Christian. The mark was indistinct but from the dark ash smudge, one could discern the shape of a diamond, the eastern point having been deliberately altered with an extra line intersecting the apex. It was the sign they had been searching for, for years. Smiles broke out on all of their faces as they clapped each other on the back with relieved laughter.

Wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye, Elliot studied the note again. "And our contact is to be trusted? They can help us get in?"

"They can help me get in, brother," Christian stated. Elliot looked up, his eyes tumultuous green. Christian was not phased. "Your role is to stay here."

"The hell I will. I'm not going to let this attempt fail" This was the direct hit that Christian expected and dreaded at the same time.

"This attempt will not fail. Don't challenge me on this, Elliot." Christian's eyes hardened.

"This is my best friend, Christian. You won't leave me behind." Elliot's temper was rising as he stood nose to nose with his brother.

"You are the future Duke of Carrick. Ethan will not thank either of us for risking your life!"

"Both of you stop before you attract the attention of your mother's guests. Or worse, your father." James chose to stay out of most fights between his cousins, but there was a time and place. "Christian is right, Elliot. It would be foolish for you to go at this time. Besides, I think we might have other problems that might require your attention here at home. Least of which, is that our contact has confirmed that Ethan was captured on information that could only have come from our home office. Someone is going to have to work with Haverstock to gain more information and that job would be best suited to you." He looked at Elliot rather pointedly. A grim line formed on Elliot's face but his eyes did not move from his brother. Christian reached up and placed a hand on either side of his sibling's head and pulled him in until their foreheads were touching.

"Please. I know that I failed you before but I will not do so again. Leave Ethan to me. Trust me, I beg of you." Elliot was one of only three men in the world that could bring Christian to his metaphorical knees. James placed a hand on each cousin's shoulder in solidarity. They all had their roles to play and they were each, in their own way, laying their lives on the line, just as their friend had done for them.

Elliot kissed his brother's forehead before pulling away. James was satisfied that the brothers would not hurt each other in some grandiose display of one-up-manship. He pulled his gloves from his breast pocket.

"Now, I must away. Haverstock has given me leave to pursue another lead regarding Ravensthwaite. I hope to bring you more information before you leave, cousin." With that announcement, James stepped through the library doors and disappeared. Elliot still held the note from Ethan in his hand and was indulging himself in a further reassurance that his friend was indeed alive.

"Brother, may I ask you a question?" Given the emotional temperature of the room, Christian was not sure about broaching his topic. However, he could not go to France without some reassurance. Elliot looked up at him. "Have you been seeing Elena Lincoln?"

The twisted, raw look of pain and guilt on Elliot's face spoke for him. "I…"

The words hadn't left his mouth before Christian's fist connected with his jaw. Elliot staggered back, clutching at his face.

"What the hell was that for?" Elliot yelled.

"Don't make me hit you again, brother." Christian was winding up once more but Elliot was ready for him this time and caught his fist in his hand.

"Just listen to me! For God's sake!"

"Why? We made a promise, we four. How could you?" Christian had suddenly lost what little patience he had had.

"I didn't break our agreement. She summoned me. She said she had information about Ravensthwaite that I would want to hear. I went to her rooms and when I got there she offered me tea. That was the last thing I remember. When I awoke, I was in her bed but she was nowhere to be found."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" There were times when Christian wondered if his brother had any sense at all.

"I had all my money, there was no one in the room. It was bizarre but it seemed rather harmless and pointless."

"Nothing that woman does is harmless nor pointless. You should know better than that."

"I know, I know. I just thought…" Elliot shook his head. "I have no idea what I thought. I'm sorry, I should have told you days ago but then you asked for my assistance with Lady Katherine and Miss Steele and it completely slipped my mind."

"Well, it clearly hasn't slipped hers. She's up to something and she seems intent on maligning your reputation along with Kate and Ana."

"What do you mean?"

"She's all but accused them of an unnatural relationship and she insinuated that you had been intimate with her."

"I'll kill her." Christian had no doubt that Elliot would do exactly that.

"No, we need to be smarter than that. We need to make sure her husband does it." Christian smiled at Elliot who after a moment's shock, gave a wry chuckle. "In the meantime, I have an appointment with Captain Blackheart."

Two hours later, a figure clothed in black, appeared at the top of the staircase, his body still, eyes alert behind the mask. The whisper went up around the room, bringing ladies, young and old to the edge of the dance floor to peer expectantly up at the balcony. Captain Blackheart had made very few appearances at the balls and soirees of the ton but when he did there was always a furore. Mia, who had been standing talking with the Duke and Duchess, broke away as quickly and politely as she could and rushed to the bottom of the stairs. Kate and Ana had caught the tail end of the excitement as they emerged into the ballroom and Kate followed in Mia's wake.

"Kate, stop, what are you doing?" Ana whispered.

"This is the opportunity I have waited for for months. I missed his every appearance the last two seasons so I am not going to let this chance slip." Kate's giddy and somewhat childish behavior was starting to worry Ana. She wasn't sure that her dearest friend wasn't losing her marbles.

"Wait! This is unseemly. You can't just throw yourself upon his mercy like some harlot in front of the ton. What happened to asking Captain Grey for an introduction?" The zealous look in Kate's eyes disturbed Ana beyond belief. This was not the plan. After months of investigation, Kate had discovered that Captain Christian Grey, her brother's childhood friend, had once sailed with Captain Blackheart and knew him very well. The story had come to them from the widow of one of Blackheart's crewmen, who had told them that Captain Grey had rescued Blackheart and his crew a year ago in a standoff with a Spanish galleon off the coast of Gibraltar.

Just then, the man himself appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Ana found herself stepping back away from the crowd of ladies. The Captain radiated raw energy and malevolence as he stood over them. It was impossible to discern anything about him except for the clear gray of his eyes. His hair was hidden beneath a black head scarf and tricorn hat. His eyes were covered in the black silk eye mask that secured his head gear in place. His shirt, jacket, breeches, boots and gloves were all black; the effect menacing. Ana felt her body start to tremble at his proximity. Then to her horror, she watched as the crowd parted and the Captain stalked toward her. Just as he gained her side, she all but turned to run from the room when his hand grasped her elbow and the audience sent up a collective gasp.

"I believe you promised this dance to me, M'Lady." That deep resonant voice hit her in the chest and her breath hitched.

"I think you are mistaken, Sir. I don't believe that we have met." But her words were too little too late. To her horror, at that moment the orchestra struck up the supper waltz. Ana glanced around in panic, seeking eyes, any eyes, that might save her. While there was plenty of interest, a little too much interest, no one stepped forward to stop him from laying claim to her. Plenty of young women around her began to flutter their fans against the heat he stirred up but none would lift a hand to help her.

"Come, my dear, you would not refuse me." A statement, not a question. He brushed a gloved hand over her bare shoulder causing a tremor to go through Ana's body. Unlike, Captain Grey, who could sometimes be so cold and aloof, Captain Blackheart smiled with warmth, humor and kindness and Ana felt her heart stop. "Breathe, my dear. I promise I won't bite."

Pulling her into his arms, the Captain swept her in a wide circle and Ana could do no more than try to keep up with the pace of his fluid movement. His grip was firm on her back, pulling her a little closer to his hips than she would have thought seemly, but since she had dance so few waltzes in her time, she had very little on which to base a judgment. His hand firmly held hers,the warmth flowing through their gloves. More than anything, she felt herself completely trapped in his gaze that was both full of the warmth of an unshared joke and the turbulence of wild sea. Ana bit her lip and prayed that her heart could not be so easily taken by two equally as compelling men in as many days.

"Smile, Ana. You look like a frightened deer." Ana's eyes widened. How did he know her name let alone presume to use it?

"What do you want with me?" Trying to keep her voice level was a feat of great strength.

"The question is what do you want of me? I've heard that you and your friend have been looking for me."

It was true. Only two months ago, the letter had come from the palace informing Kate that time was drawing close for the Ravensthwaite estate to pass back to the crown. At the same time, other information had reached her regarding Ethan. Whereas before, Kate had trusted that the war would end and her brother might return, now, it seemed that time was of the essence.

"You are mistaken, Sir. It is Lady Katherine who has some need of your services."

"And you?" She didn't understand the question. She didn't quite know how.

"I am merely a paid companion." He swung her around in a wild circle then resumed dancing her backward. The predatory gleam in his eye made her feel stalked.

"Come, my dear. You are so much more than that. I can sense that you are drawn to your own adventures. Tell me, don't you want something that only I can offer?" He smirked in a way that had Ana fuming with anger. How dare he? The presumptuous man. He was every inch a pirate. She made to pull away from him but his grip tightened.

"You are insufferable and arrogant and…" To her dismay he threw back his head and laughed before swinging her in another wide arc. She hissed, "Will you stop making such a scene, please. Everyone is looking at us."

Her gritted teeth were causing her jaw to ache.

"Oh, my dear, I think the real scene is that nasty tower of rotting fruit on top of the Countess Durham's head. Look, at Lord Melthrop trying to steal her grapes." Ana caught the movement of the Earl's hand from hat to mouth and developed an uncontrollable case of the giggles, her shoulders shaking and tears threatening. "Oh, and look at Lady Lincoln with her hand on the footman's thigh. Poor man looks like he's going to be ill."

"Stop it!" Ana laughed. "I'm mad at you. How dare you make me laugh."

"My point is that we are hardly the only spectacle with all of that going on. You and I are merely a sideshow."

"Somehow, I don't think you have ever been a mere sideshow in your life." Ana tried to feign indifference by looking past his shoulder. Every time she stopped looking at him he twirled her again and drew her eyes to his.

"You have no idea." At that moment the dance ended and Captain Blackheart gave a gallant bow before leading her from the dance floor. At that moment, Kate came charging over to them with a determined look on her face. Upon arriving in front of them her manner immediately changed and Ana had a terrible premonition that Kate was about to swoon. And on cue, much to Ana's abject horror, Kate did exactly that, collapsing into the arms of the black-clad buccaneer, who, without missing a beat, swept her up and carried her through nearby doors to a small private study.

Shaking off her trance, Ana followed, wondering just what her friend was up to. Kate never swooned, even when she had received news that her brother had been taken prisoner. Nor when she had found out that her parents had died. Ana had thought to escape after her dance but now she could not very well leave her friend to the mercy of the pirate. Meanwhile, the Captain laid Kate down on a chaise and began to fiddle with the her costume. Ana gave a little yelp.

"Really! There is no need for that." Kate sat up suddenly and batted away his hands. Ana was ready to chastise her friend for her dramatics but found herself giggling at the Captain's ineffective attempts to fend her off.

"I was only trying to assist you to breathe. You ladies wear such confining stays that I thought perhaps you might not be able to take in any air."

"Ooh! How dare you? Women haven't been wearing confining stays since the turn of the century and nothing would give you the right to take such liberties with an unmarried woman." Kate was in her stride now and Ana knew that Captain Blackheart, scourge of the seas, was about to get a dressing down that would match the ire of the little French emperor himself. She was tempted to escape the room and leave them to it but the pirate looked up at her with pleading eyes, clearly out of his depth.

"Kate, perhaps now would be the right time to make your request, instead of berating Captain Blackheart?" Ana inclined her head, hoping to send a subtle message to Kate to remind her of just what was at stake. So much effort had gone into obtaining an introduction to Captain Blackheart. It seemed a shame to have spent all that effort only to stumble at the final hurdle.

"Oh. Oh, of course." Kate swallowed back the insults she was preparing to hurl and tried for demure. From the look on Blackheart's face, Ana didn't think it was working. Just then, the door burst open and a man walked in looking for the world like a god of war or thunder. One glance told Ana all she needed to know. This was the Lord Grey, ready to tear the limbs off Captain Blackheart. For his part, the roguish pirate had risen and was poised for battle.

"Lord Grey, how wonderful that you should come to check on our well being." Ana stepped in front of Elliot and placed her gloved palm on his chest which brought about an angry hiss from Blackheart. This was all a little too confusing as both men glared at her hand. Slowly, removing it, Ana suddenly didn't like her or Kate's chances of leaving this room without a spanking.

Elliot knelt at Kate's feet, removing his mask and taking her hand. "Are you alright, my dear?" He was so earnest and Kate's eyes, usually clear and knowing suddenly became glassy with emotion.

"Oh, Lord Grey, I am so very happy to have you here." Ana wondered if this were not an act as well. Kate had wanted an audience with Captain Blackheart, not a tryst with Elliot, Lord Grey. Although, she was sure that a tryst wouldn't have been unwelcome. Only not with an audience. Ana wound her hand through the Captain's arm and began to walk him around the edges of the small room in an effort to give them some privacy.

"Captain Blackheart, I wonder if I might speak with you on a matter of some urgency." The captain's body was tense, his muscles hard beneath her hand. So similar to Captain Grey, only, while the naval Captain radiated arrogance and determination, the pirate was clearly more dangerous.

"I would be delighted to be of service." He seemed relieved to be removed from Kate's side but not in a way that said he had any desire other than to be walking right at this moment with Ana. His eyes were warm and earnest, his smile genuine. Mmmm…another difference. She had the distinct impression that Captain Grey had heard her out with a sense of duty. This man was proving more…approachable, even if he was a complete rogue. She had not expected that. His voice, deep and warm, had her melting and she wondered if perhaps she was going through some sort of womanly change to be so affected so deeply by two very similar but also very different men.

"I would beg a favor of you, sir, if I may?" The pirate smiled and Ana found her body relaxing against his.

"What is it, dear one?" Ana glanced around her. He had managed to maneuver her out through the terrace doors without her notice. Goodness, the man was quite something. She knew she shouldn't be alone with him, not after that risque dance, but quite honestly, she found herself not wanting to be anywhere else. This was not how she usually acted and she felt quite wanton. He turned her body to face him and was shifting a lock of hair away from her eyes with the backs of his fingers. Although the action itself reminded her of Captain Grey in many ways, this moment was uniquely about Captain Blackheart. It took every effort not to sigh into his touch.

"I…" For one shocking moment, she thought that she might actually lose her words. She glanced back into the room to where Kate was obviously being severely reprimanded by Lord Elliot. "I would like to employ your services, on behalf of Lady Katherine Kavanagh and Lord Ethan Kavanagh, Earl of Ravensthwaite."

"Would you indeed?" She could hear the raised eyebrow, even if, between mask and darkness, she could not see it. He was mocking her.

"Yes, quite. I have an urgent mission to complete."

"A mission? Pray tell, what is this mission, sweet lady?" Oh, the man was so forward. Ana must take back control of this conversation.

"I should like you to take me to France."


	6. Chapter 6

The Duke and Duchess of Carrick had watched as Captain Blackheart had swept up Lady Katherine and swept her away into the study. After a moment, Elliot had stalked after them leaving the Duke and Duchess of Carrick to sweep in behind, effectively blocking the view of onlookers. When they reached the open doors, they grasped the handles in carefully choreographed unison and shut them firmly behind the quartet before locking them in and turned back to face the ballroom. With a quick nod and a wave of his hand, the Duke signaled to the orchestra to resume the music and the baffled onlookers, not wanting to offend a peer of the realm, went back to dancing and talking, as if nothing untoward had occurred.

"Well, that seemed to go very well." The Duke, seeming quite pleased with playing his part, grinned at his wife before taking her hand and pressing a kiss. The Duchess pulled her hand away.

"Don't count your chickens, Carrick. You know that if anyone can possibly ruin the outcome tonight, it would be your sons. They are both quite charmingly hopeless." Glancing about the room, she smiled at the revelers in an encouraging way. Enticing them to continue with their fun and ignore the fact that four young people had just disappeared, unchaperoned, under dubious circumstances.

"Those young ladies are well-matched with your errant sons, m'dear. I think this will all go very well."

"Carrick, you are ever the optimist. As much as I like Miss Steele, I fear that Christian has underestimated his opponent. As to Lady Katherine. We both know that she is not the problem." She smiled fleetingly at Lady Montford as she waddled past, effectively dismissing the tiresome old biddy's unwelcome approach.

"Would you care to wager?" Her Grace raised an eyebrow as her husband continued, "four gold sovereigns that there will be grandchildren on their way by Mistlemas."

Her Grace laughed. "Grandchildren! Oh, I should like to take that wager, and I would gladly lose."

"What happens now?" The Duke snatched up a glass of champagne from a passing footman.

"We hope that Sir Raymond remembers his lines."

As the words left Ana's lips, they both heard a loud voice shout up from the gardens.

"What the devil is going on?" At the sound, Ana jumped away from Captain Blackheart, her skin flushing with heat. What was going on indeed? "Unhand my daughter!"

Ana swallowed before Sir Raymond Steele emerged from the shadows looking for the world like he was ready to throw down a glove.

"Papa," Ana fought to bring her breathing under control. "May I present…"

"I know who this blackguard is, gel. I want to know what he thinks he is doing, pawing my daughter in the gardens of Carrick House?"

"But Papa…" Ana would have felt dangerously out of control except for the fact that this would not be the first time her father had rescued her from the attentions of an unwanted suitor.

"Don't 'Papa' me, gel." Ana imagined that even in the dim light, she could see Sir Raymond's face was reddening.

"Father, think of your heart." As if on signal, Sir Raymond's hand slipped to his chest. Ana knew, with a certainty based on historical precedent, that now her father would feign an apoplexy that would allow her to claim that she could never leave her dear Papa's side. This show of solidarity would result in the suitor being excused to fetch water, thus giving them the opportunity to sneak off into the night in his absence. If an approach was later made to apply for her hand, her father would claim that he had no memory of the event and that the young scallywag could rest assured that it was all a mistake and they would not be required to do the proper thing by his daughter.

So she stepped back a little and waited. And waited. Only, to Ana's surprise the hand did not so much clutch at his heart but rather, it grasped at the lapel as if in readiness to deliver a speech to parliament. Sir Raymond rose up and down on the balls of his feet, as if sizing up an opponent. And instead of the opponent being the Captain, he appeared to be weighing his next words to her.

"There is nothing wrong with my heart, young lady. This rogue has compromised your reputation and I wish to know his intentions." Ana watched in abject horror as her father ascended the stairs to the balcony and stood nose to chin with the Captain. The Captain looked over his head at her and gave a calculated smile.

"I have no intentions. Your daughter dragged me out here and was asking me to run away with her. It seems as if she has compromised my reputation, Sir."

Ana gasped. The cad! How dare he? Except that, she had, hadn't she? Oh, goodness. A guilty flush crept up Ana's decolletage and over her cheeks and she was eternally grateful that they were standing in the shadows.

"What the blazes?" Sir Raymond took an angry step toward the Captain, looking for the world as if he would like to tear him limb from limb. Ana glanced from one man to the other and noted, with some annoyance, the smirk on Captain Blackheart's face. This really was no way to win friends and influence people. It was her father's face that caused her the most concern though.

"The Captain and I were discussing a business venture, Father." The Captain's eyebrow quirked.

"Were we indeed?" Well, really! The last thing she needed was for Captain Blackheart to nay say her. How dare he? "If your business involved running away together, I suppose we were."

"You are insufferable." Ana resisted the temptation to stamp her foot. If only because she was fairly sure her delicate slipper was no match for his leather boots. "I was about to offer you funds."

"I'm not for sale, Madam, for you or any woman. I'm not that sort of man." Ana was quite sure that steam was indeed coming from her ears. Sir Raymond appeared to choke a little before giving the Captain a warning glance that Ana, in her anger, failed to notice. "Perhaps, I should insist on your daughter doing the right thing by my reputation."

"Do not be flippant, Sir. You have been caught in a compromising position by half the ton and you will tell me now, Sir, what you will do to rectify the situation?"

"Half the ton? Father, there is only you and he and me. That hardly constitutes a crisis of state." Ana was furious with her father. They had an agreement that he would never put her in this situation. Of course, she had never really been in this situation of her own volition before. In the past, they had always known that young men of dubious motives, were often intent on entrapment that had nothing to do with her desires for matrimony. She couldn't debate that in this particular instance, she had indeed chosen to be on a secluded balcony, in the dark, with a man but her motives were clear. Surely, her father would hear her plea.

"I say, Sir Raymond. Is that you?" Ana groaned inwardly. As if on cue, the Duke and Duchess of Carrick, accompanied by Lady Mia, strolled into the dim light on the garden path. Her Grace's voice was crisp and clear and Ana's worst nightmare, as it rang through the gloom.

"Your Graces." Sir Raymond and the Captain effected bows and Ana nervously and somewhat belatedly, executed a rather awkward curtsy.

"I am sorry to report, Your Grace, that I have found my daughter with this nefarious gent, in flagrante." Sir Raymond's angry tone made his position clear. He was about to sell her out. To a pirate! Had the man taken leave of his senses? She looked around nervously for Kate, hoping that her friend would save her.

"Oh, my! Well, that will never do." Her Grace's worry was touching. Ana felt hopeful for an ally. Then she caught the look on the woman's face and knew her fate was set. "It would seem that the right thing needs to be done. What say you, Christian?"

"Christian?" Ana apparently had taken up mimicking codfish. She turned to Captain Blackheart, who was reaching up to remove his mask.

"Yes, my dear. This is my son's little idea of a joke. He would normally never attend an event like this for longer than a few minutes. I'm afraid I put my foot down and he tried to call my bluff by saying that the only way he would attend for longer would be if he was permitted to dress as that notorious pirate, Captain Blackheart. So I said yes. The desperation of a mother, you see, to have her sons attend her. If I had known the evening would turn out like this…"

Ana's mind reeled at the Duchess' little speech. Christian pretended to be Blackheart? Good heavens.

"Your Grace, I am sure that there is no need to take this any further than this little group. You are all family, after all, and no harm was done." Ana knew that the plaintive tone of her voice was probably not convincing anyone. She did, however, feel quite desperate, that this was all about to end in tears and servitude. Marriage to Captain Christian Grey was untenable. He did not love her any more than she loved him and marriage for anything less than love was unthinkable.

Then her Grace looked over Ana's shoulder to the end of the balcony, where a crowd had suddenly gathered and were watching, with Kate and Elliot in the lead. A look of confusion and solidarity passed between Kate and Ana. However, any hope that her friend was about to rescue her was completely lost when Lord and Lady Lincoln emerged from a door between Ana and the small crowd. Lady Lincoln sneered a smile, her face a mask of disdain but her eyes shrouded in thunder.

"It does rather look as though our fates are sealed, my dear." Christian, sans mask, but looking all the more like a cat who had stolen the cream, smiled reassuringly down at her. In that moment, Ana knew in her heart that he had engineered this whole scene. His motives were unclear to her but since they did not love each other, and she had no money or station in life to offer him, she could only think that this was some sort of insufferable restitution for his injured male pride as a result of her refusal of his impulsive proposal. She looked incredulously at the hopeful faces of her father and Christian's parents, Lady Mia's amusement, Kate horrified shock, Lord Elliot's pleased smile. Then she glanced at the shocked and disdainful faces of the assembled crowd, before swallowing down a little whimper of hopelessness. Her lip sneaked beneath her teeth, and she felt the moisture of one hot, angry tear as it rolled down her cheek.

Raising her head to look Christian in the eye, she hissed under her breath, "I will never forgive you for this."

The Duke being who he was, was able to secure a marriage license within a week and Ana and Christian were married in the small chapel at Bellevue Manor, the seat of the Duchy. They had barely set eyes on each other in the days leading up to the wedding, Ana refusing to see anyone except her mother. Lady Caroline Steele, was of course, in her element as she fluffed and preened, telling and untelling Ana what a spectacular match she had made. Ana not being prepared to forgive anyone for what had transpired, least of all herself, felt compelled to endure her mother's endless activity and invasive attention as penance for her ill-conceived decision to seize the moment to barter a deal with the man she believed to be Captain Blackheart.

"You know, the Duchess really is a saint. That boy was the child of an actress, you know. An actress! On the stage! Everyone knew she was the Duke of Carrick's mistress. Ella du Thierry. French, if you please. Rumour has it she was a spy. Of course, his father encouraged it. Yes, the old Duke was a reprobate if ever there was one. The story goes that he had a liaison with Ella first and then passed her down to the current Duke along with the title. Never heard of such a thing. Fancy writing a mistress into the will. Just goes to show that money and title doesn't always buy class. The actress contracted consumption when the Captain was merely a baby and she made the Duke promise to take care of her son. Their son, she said, although there is no proof that he is the Duke's. That lad has well and truly fallen on his feet. Her Grace claimed him as her own from the start and refused to let anyone say different. That woman is a saint. A saint, I tell you. Of course, it doesn't change the fact that you are about to marry the bastard son of an actress. I don't know how I shall keep my head up in society. Honestly, why you couldn't have married that nice, Mr Hyde, when you had the chance. I wouldn't be surprised if that Captain Grey doesn't jump back aboard his ship and sail off to France leaving you alone at the alter. But Mr Hyde won't ask you again. You've well and truly blown your chances there, my girl. It is a shame. Still it is lovely here at the Duke's manor. Did you see all of those servants? And their livery? My goodness, a pretty penny has been spent there. Wouldn't it be marvellous if the Duke saw fit to bestow a little property and funds on the Steeles. He can't possibly expect us to provide a dowry when they have so much. No, no, they should be like those heathens from the India's and pay to take you off our hands. Of course, I wouldn't want to be paid with a chicken and a camel but the gold. That could come in very handy. Now, turn around so I can sew the other side. We don't want this to fall off you in front of the congregation. Goodness, imagine the gossip if that happened! Although, you'd think if they were prepared to claim Captain Grey as their child then they should be prepared to pay for a London Abbey wedding. Oooh, I do love the London Season. Of course, I haven't been able to attend due to my poor health but I would have made the trip for that. Just to see the looks on all those jealous biddies faces when my little Ana marries a Duke. Well, the son of a Duke. The bastard son of a Duke. If that Lord Elliot Grey dies will the Captain inherit? No, no, I can't imagine that. Such a disappointment. Anastasia, that colour looks lovely on you."

All of this was accompanied by wistful pauses, wringing of hands and the odd stab of the needle into Ana's fair skin. Ana felt fated to attend her wedding as sieve. She would have been exhausted if she bothered to listen to half of it. Instead, she was in a state of emotional shock, her mother's buzzing a comforting background noise to the tumultuous thoughts that haunted her night and day. Somewhere in the buzz she was holding her own internal commentary.

I'm not sure the Duchess is a saint. A conspirator in my downfall, perhaps. Yes, actresses often act…and upon the stage, too. Perhaps I could run away and join the theatre. Or become a French spy. That sounds lovely. His father encouraged her to spy? Or to act? Oh, the mistress. Yes, well. If father wasn't so exhausted by you, he might have taken a mistress, too. Perhaps he could do so now and contract a nasty disease of his own. Serve him right, the traitor. Women have always been chattels, mother. Why else would you be so willing to sell me off to the highest bidder? I'm not sure that having one's mother die could really be called falling on one's feet. Not if society kept up this level of gossip and speculation for the rest of your life. The proof of his parentage is in evidence whenever those Grey men stand together in a room. All of them strikingly handsome and so very similar in looks. You will never be accepted in society, Mother, because they are collectively terrified of you, as am I. Yes, Bellevue is lovely, soothing. I would happily go with a Bedouin tribe if it meant escaping this nightmare. Losing my gown in the chapel would complete my ritual humiliation perfectly. A small wedding is perfect, though. Less witnesses to my demise. The reason you don't go to the Season is that no one will receive you, Mother. Father wishes to spare you the shame of rejection. Yes, he loves you that much. I have always wanted to know what it would be like to have a man to love me like that. Now I will never know.

Christian stood at the alter in the small family chapel and watched as Sir Raymond escorted his daughter down the short aisle. Those gathered grinned with great enthusiasm as the ceremony proceeded. For his part, he couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful woman who stood before him. She was wondrously luminescent in her dove gray gown; lavender ribbons intricately woven in her dark hair. Her large blue eyes stared over the head of the vicar as she responded in quiet emotionless tones and Christian had the ominous feeling that she was like some wild mare whose spirit he had broken. He feigned ignorance, hoping that she might slip with a small smile or even a loose tear but there was nothing. The nausea loomed.

After hours of small talk at their wedding breakfast, they ascended his carriage and began the long ride south to his coastal property. Perhaps the sea air would brighten her mood. He didn't hold out much hope. She wouldn't speak to him. She hardly looked at him. In defense of his own heart, he sat huddled against the corner of the carriage and pretended to sleep. She was angry. She had every right to be. He just hadn't expected her stay angry this long. He'd mistakenly asked her mother for assistance and then spent an hour hearing about childish tempers and a misspent youth that no mother should have to suffer. Lady Steele's idea of misspent youth included the hours that Ana had apparently spent reading and being educated. He concluded that he and Lady Steele had very different views on a young lady's education and vowed then and there that any daughter of their's would require more influence of his mother than Ana's. Then he supposed that Ana would not look favorably upon him if he suggested that her mother was anything other than stellar and made another vow to not ever tell her about his conclusions regarding their off-spring and respective parents.

When finally they had arrived at his estate, Ana had greeted the staff with humility and civility before ascending to their apartments. He hoped that she might receive him but the sight of the silent and emotionless Ana walking to the windows and staring out at the ocean convinced him it would be right and proper to wait. She simply needed time. Without discussion, he removed himself to the adjacent room and left her alone on their first night as a married couple in their own home.

Ana dismissed the maid and prepared herself for bed and slipped between the covers with a shiver to wait for her husband. When it became apparent that he was not coming she turned onto her side and cried herself to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Christian sat at his desk studying the papers before him. The candle flickered, breaking his concentration and not for the first time tonight, his thoughts went to his wife. Her cool demeanor was a mask. He knew this for certain because he had perfected his own over the years. She was protecting herself, against what, he was not sure. All he knew was that the feisty and passionate woman who had confronted him on his ship and challenged his alter ego on the dance floor, had suddenly retreated into this empty husk, who had barely walked through the past few days leading up to their wedding.

Her reserve had warned him to be patient but her latent tears had ripped at his heart. Within those pathetic murmurs he heard all of the passion she had been denying and he had very nearly gone to her. Instead, he had stilled his hand upon the handle, rested his forehead against the door and simply listened to all of her pain, wishing for the first time since he had approached her father, that he had done things differently. All of the decisions he had made were for their collective good. At the time he had been certain of his motives, but in being so convinced of what he thought was right, he had removed her choice in the matter. So he had stopped himself from going to her tonight, choosing not to force himself on her, as many husbands did to their wives. Instead, he hoped that, as unworthy as he was to be a husband, he could love her enough for the both of them, and in time, she might learn to love him in return.

The clock chimed two and Taylor entered the room.

"We're ready, Sir."

Christian nodded, locked the papers in his drawer, donned hat and cloak and followed his man through to the library.

* * *

><p>When she awoke the next morning, Ana felt a sense of relief. It had not been her intention to evade her wifely duties but the delayed intimacy gave her some space to breathe. There were things that she had never wanted to consider for herself: marriage and children were at the top of that list. Not because she did not have a desire to be a mother but because of all that it might mean for her children's future. Kate and Sir Raymond had both independently convinced her that a true love-match might overlook all of the other aspects of herself that she feared but her parents had a love match and she had watched the impact that time had on her father. Slowly eroding away his desire. Sometimes love could not conquer all. She also knew, with unfailing certainty, how society shuns what it does not collectively understand. Christian was the son of a Duke but as a bastard son, society already had its opinion of him, regardless of how the Duke and Duchess accepted him. He should know this better than most. Their expectations could not keep all of the detractors at bay. There were some who would never accept him. Ana's disappointment was wrapped around the idea that her father knew the added impact this marriage would have and yet he aided and abetted Christian's ridiculous plans anyway.<p>

She could make blithe statements to herself about beds being made and certain bodies being forced to sleep in them but even as she denied him, she knew her heart was engaged. Ana simply could not remain cold and standoffish forever. It was only a matter of time before Christian would wear her down and then she would have to face certain consequences of that particular door being opened. As it was, she could hardly contain the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface since the day they met. He had unwittingly awoken her passions and she was fighting to tamp down her own desires.

Moving about the room, Ana sought out the supplies she had acquired after her second trip to the docks. She had not gone to seek out Christian on that occasion, but to gain explicit knowledge that might help to put her mind at ease. The women had laughed at first, thinking that she was about to become the mistress of the great Captain Grey. There was less laughter when she announced her wedding. Looks had been cast around the group before Miss Andrea had quietly taken her to a dingy room above one of the local pubs. The smell alone had made Ana nauseous but it was not enough to make her run. She had come away with the information she required and Andrea's warnings ringing in her ears. There were risks, always risks, but she had to try. After all, she would not be able to stave off his advances and she wasn't sure that she wanted to.

Having rung for tea, Ana had finally ventured downstairs in search of Christian. Instead, she had found the housekeeper, Mrs Jones, a capable sort who ran a tight ship. There ensued a rather conveniently timed tour of the house that took her away from seeking out Christian for the next hour or so and gave her more badly needed breathing room.

Mrs Jones had introduced her to the many staff inside the house and had taken her through three levels with a quiet efficiency. In some ways, the woman reminded Ana of Christian and she wondered for the thousandth time that morning where he was, even though she was glad that she did not have to see him yet.

"You do look a bit peaky, my dear. Perhaps some tea?" Mrs Jones guided her into the drawing room two hours later, where a small table had been set in anticipation. As if she had given a signal, a maid entered the room with a tray of freshly made tea and a plate of scones with jam and cream. It was only when the hint of bergamot hit her palate that Ana realized she was both parched and famished. Mrs Jones had served with what Ana could only assume was her usual efficiency.

"Thank you, Mrs Jones. This is lovely." Ana glanced around at the room with its large windows and the play of mid-morning sunlight on the carpeted floor. When the housekeeper turned to leave, Ana halted her. "Mrs Jones, please sit and take tea with me. I should like to learn more about the house."

Ana also had no desire to be left alone feeling so much like a visitor in her new home. After almost a week with only her mother for company, she missed Kate. Eventually, she hoped that Kate would come to visit her and that she might finally find mend their rift and find some peace with the circumstances of her marriage. The fact that Kate had not spoken up for her had stung, especially when they had both shared their deepest desire to flaunt society's mores and marry a man of their choosing for no less than true love. Especially when Kate had such deep feelings about Captain Christian Grey. She had felt sure that when she saw Kate appear on the balcony that night, her dearest friend was about to put a stop to the madness, but she had held back in stunned silence, leaving Ana with no choice but to bow to her father's desire for satisfaction. The thought of that particular betrayal had hurt the most. Her father had supported her stance on marriage, and she had been the happiest of daughters because of that unwavering support. Ana had known from a very early age that her father was deeply in love with her mother, even though the woman was as mad as a hatter. He presented a rather different story to society but Ana, alone, knew the truth of why her mother was left in the countryside to rusticate. Now her father had sold his own daughter down the matrimonial river and she had no doubt that it would be a long, long time before she would forgive him.

"Would you like another scone, M'Lady?" Mrs Jones' calm voice cut through Ana's reverie.

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs Jones. They are very tasty but I have had quite enough. Thank you." Ana smiled in as reassuring a fashion as she could muster. It probably looked like a grimace. She thought she might have to practice schooling her looks so that she might fool the help. She had the disconcerting feeling that Mrs Jones was one of those women who noticed everything.

You're very welcome, M'Lady." Mrs Jones smiled and sipped her tea.

"Please, call me Ana." In Kate's household, the servants had done so. They had called her Miss Ana, although now she was no longer a 'Miss, and Kate was Lady Kate or Miss Kate. Kate often commented that her mother would be turning in her grave at the familiarity Kate maintained with the household staff but Kate insisted and Ana followed suit, liking that the staff often felt more like friends than servants. She frowned at the thought. She should very much like to have at least one friend in this strange place.

"M'Lady," Ana frowned. Mrs Jones kept up the use of a title when Ana did not have one. Perhaps Christian had not had time to notify Mrs Jones about the wedding before they had arrived at the Grange, although one week did seem ample time to get a message about whom he was marrying. Maybe it slipped his mind. "If I may be so bold, you don't seem very happy to be here. Is the house not to your liking?" Mrs Jones placed her cup down on her lap and regarded Ana quietly.

"Oh, goodness, no. The house is lovely." And it truly was. From the beautifully appointed furnishings to the warm, bright outlook the house was at peace with the its surroundings, both homely and in tune with the outdoors. Whoever had decorated, and Ana could only assume it was Mrs Jones, had been able to marry the best of the sea and land. A refuge of peace against the wildly harsh and beautiful coastline.

"I'm so glad. The Captain will be pleased. He chose most of the decor himself." Ana placed her own cup down on the saucer and looked at Mrs Jones in surprise. She glanced around the room once more, taking in the tasteful tapestries hung on the walls and the careful placement of small conversational pieces that welcomed.

"The Captain has good taste." She cast a thought to the rooms she had walked through this morning and how they were beautifully appointed. Everything about the house was warm, cheerful, welcoming. Unlike the Captain himself. He had hardly glanced in her direction through the hours of coach ride, his eyebrows knit into cold, hard lines. This was to her advantage, of course, but she couldn't quite fathom the difference between when he played the pirate, full of humor and warmth, and the man that he truly was. Cold, intimidating, willful and unemotional. In spite of what she had first mistook as a dark passion, he obviously didn't relish bedding her any time soon. More proof that his motives for marrying her were awry. Her thoughts must have shown on her face.

"Yet, you don't like it much, do you?" Mrs Jones looked set to reach out, to pat her hand in a motherly fashion, her voice and eyes full of concern but then she withdrew. Ana thought how her own mother would not have shown such concern, either. Lady Caroline no longer seemed to know how to behave around her daughter. She had once been a loving mother. Now there were times when Ana swore that Caroline didn't know who she was. Ana wiped a tear from her eye.

"Gracious. You must think I'm terribly ungrateful. I love the house, really. I think I am just a little overwhelmed at the suddenness and scope of…change. I shall be myself in no time." A wan smile played across her lips.

"He's a good man." Ana lifted her eyes to Mrs Jones. The woman was being quite genuine. "You just need to give him a chance."

Mrs Jones held her eyes for a moment and for the first time since her wedding, Ana wondered if his distance might not be as a result of her actions. After all, she had refused to see him before the ceremony except to attend formal meals at Bellevue out of politeness. Even then Her Grace had seen fit to excuse her from that chore at least once. As she reflected on the hours that she had spent inside her own thoughts, Ana paled. Wasn't that the first indication she had had that her mother was changing? Choking down her fear, Ana resolved to play the hand she had been dealt differently. Perhaps they might not love, but surely they could learn to get along. Thousands of couples did so every day, did they not? And should that not happen, Ana glanced around, then the Grange seemed like a nice enough place to spend the remainder of her years. A handkerchief was thrust into her hand by the good housekeeper and she dabbed the corners of her eyes again.

"Mrs Jones, do you know where Captain Grey is?" Ana wasn't sure that she wanted to be anywhere near Christian but she also felt bereft of his presence. It was disconcerting and she wondered if perhaps seeing him might ease her entry into her new life.

"He rode out at first light, M'Lady. I would imagine we shan't see him again until supper. He will be out on the coast road visiting tenants." This particular coast was notorious for smugglers and Ana felt a a sense of alarm. Once more, her emotions must have shown quite clearly to Mrs Jones who patted her hand reassuringly again. "He is always careful and he has Mr Taylor with him. Don't worry."

"Oh, I wasn't. I just wondered what we might have for supper. Might we discuss menus, Mrs Jones?"

Mrs Jones smiled. "As you wish, M'Lady. Perhaps we can adjourn to your study."

Ana raised an eyebrow as she paused her cup halfway to her lips. "I have a study?"

"Yes, of course. I'll have fresh tea brought through."

An hour later, Ana and Mrs Jones had completed their task and Mrs Jones excused herself to continue with her chores. As the woman got to the door, Ana called out to her.

"Mrs Jones. I don't want to sound ungrateful or that this is a reprimand, but you keep calling me M'Lady when I am plain Mrs Christian Grey."

Mrs Jones paused at the door. "The Captain is also Viscount Trevelyan, M'Lady. A title given to him after his role in the skirmish with the French navy off the coast of Calais five years hence. The title went with the land he inherited from his maternal grandmother, Her Grace's mother. The king saw fit to grant the title as well."

Ana frowned, "but the Captain does not use the title?"

"No, M'Lady. However, he is regarded by his servants as Lord Trevelyan. He forgives us our sins." She smiled and gave a small wink as she left the room.

Ana could not fathom why Christian would not use an honor to which he was entitled. She wondered if his rejection was a some sort of statement. The man was proving to be a mystery. She pondered this as she crossed the hall to the library.

Deciding to select a book to read, Ana wandered about the room, her fingertips drifting across the leather-bound tomes, enjoying the feel of the worn leather and finding herself amazed at the breadth of topics that the Captain chose to read. Of course, it could all have been for show but the books had a clearly loved look when she opened them, as if each one was cherished and read on numerous occasions. Locating a favorite, she took it over to the window and settled into a large leather armchair, wide enough to curl her feet under and snuggle in to read in comfort and seclusion. Ana tried not to note the overwhelming sense of safety she felt at the scent of leather and sandalwood that she knew was uniquely Christian. Nor the serenity of the setting and its calming effect on her nerves. But as the rain began to strike the window pane an hour later, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Waking with a start, Ana glanced around in the gloom to find Christian standing near the bookshelf watching her as she slept. Although she was sorely tempted to fluff and worry about her appearance she chose to be as still as he, peering up at him from behind sleepy lashes.<p>

"You're back."

"Yes." He didn't smile, he didn't move. He barely shifted his eyes from hers. Tense anger radiated from his stance, making Ana feel like she was an intruder in the space. As she was about to look away she noticed his appearance.

"You're wet." She rose from her seat and walked over to him. He was still wearing his hat and cloak, the water running in icy rivulets down his unshaven skin. His eyes held the faint bruising of lack of sleep, and goosebumps were evident where his skin showed above his cravat. He might not want her attention but he was going to get it. "Come with me."

Ana took his hand and led him through the house, up the stairs to their apartments. Fires had been stoked in both the master and mistress bedroom but she took him into his room and rang the bell for his valet. For his part, Christian was disconcerted at this sudden desire to take care of him. He had entered the room not expecting to find anyone and was surprised to see her small body curled up in a reading chair in front of the window. Her dark lashes rested on her pale skin and her chest rose and fell in soft shifts of air. She was angelic and peaceful and he had had no desire to wake her. He only wanted to watch. Then she had stirred and it had taken a moment to realise that she was watching him. That connection brought on painful urges that he had to fight to control. Now, here she was, acting as his valet, stripping his wet clothing and inadvertently stirring his frozen body to life again.

Fingers darted around his neck and he shuddered, as she softly removed the sodden cravat. She tossed it on the wet pile by the hearth that was his cloak and jacket. Not wanting to endure his reaction to her touch, he tried to undo the buttons of his waistcoat but his fingers were too cold to cooperate. She brushed his hands aside and made quick work of another slick layer. When she made to lift his shirt, he nearly lost all semblance of control as the fire from his loins raced up to warm the frozen extremities of the rest of his body. He had spent all night aching for her. Now he frowned. He'd be damned if he would lose complete control of his bodily functions now. Not over the removal of a shirt. Pushing her hands away he stopped her from assisting him, but noted her breathing becoming more erratic as his chest was exposed. Each sharp intake drove his desire to throw her down in front of the fire and ravage her body.

For a moment she froze, her eyes trained upon the dusting of hair across his stomach and then a blush crept over her cheeks and she turned away to tidy up the discarded clothes. Her blush calmed his own lusts, and he was about to offer some sort of reassuring words when a knock came to the door and two footmen came in carrying buckets of hot water for the hip bath. Ana supervised the filling and then passed the clothing to one of the footmen to take away.

"I shall leave you now, Sir." She was about to creep away.

"Anastasia. Please. Stay." He was dangerously close to falling on the floor and prostrating himself at her feet. Her eyes raised to his and he could have sworn that he saw longing. Then the shutters came down and he watched her emotional retreat long before her body slipped through the door.

_Damn! _The past days had been a form of torture. Every effort that he had made to woo his lovely wife-to-be was met with a cold, hard refusal by her family and servants. Within two days after the ball she had hastily moved out of Lady Kavanagh's London house and retreated to her family home in the country. Once she was gone, Kate had finally consented to receiving him but did so with a scowling Reynolds in attendance. The discussion had not gone well and Kate claimed that Anastasia had ceased to communicate her plans or feelings with her best friend of the past ten years. Although he was sorry for her loss, he had no idea what the situation had done to contribute to this particular rift. Kate had given a hollow laugh.

"No. You wouldn't understand the trials of a mere female. Betrayal must come so easy to you, it certainly has to her father." And he had no idea what she meant by that either.

As far as he could see, his plan had been executed with near perfect accuracy. There were some moments where he felt sure that Sir Raymond was about to ruin the whole thing but in the end he had recovered well and Christian had got exactly what he intended. Anastasia's reputation would stay in tact after their careless rendezvous on ship and the odious Jackson Hyde would leave her alone for good. He knew that he had done the right thing, the only thing that made any sense, to restore her reputation. Of course, she would be somewhat tainted by marriage to the bastard son of a Duke but they would live here where society could not condemn. Now that she was here, he could concentrate his efforts on locating and rescuing Ethan Kavanagh, knowing that she was safe. And the benefit for him was that he would finally have her in his bed. He had every intention of telling her all of this after the balcony scene. Only she had immediately left the ball and refused to speak to him until they were standing before the alter and even then she only appeared to be speaking to God.

It seemed somewhat ironic that her first words since their betrothal had been a comment on his physical state of moistness but it had come as such a surprise to hear her voice that he had nearly made to reenter the room, just to be sure.

Anastasia was a mystery to him, where no woman had been before. He had had his fair share of willing wenches and overenthusiastic debutantes. There had been a slew of bored wives and lonely widows. But he found that he had no idea how to seduce his own wife. Not as himself, anyway. She had seemed to respond to Captain Blackheart with ease and a complete lack of guile that was almost alarming. The last time she had laughed had been with Blackheart. Perhaps, she should have married him, Christian thought sullenly, as he swilled the water in the tub around his growing erection.

* * *

><p>Less than half an hour later he descended the stairs in his dinner garb and headed for the dining room, all but running into Ana at the door. He halted his footsteps along with his breath and took in the vision of loveliness that stood before him. The deep blue evening gown, part of the trousseau that Lady Katherine had bestowed upon her as a wedding present,brought out the deepest hues of her eyes. Pearl drops hung from her ears matching the pearl necklace he had given her the day after the mask. Well, he had tried to give them to her and she had returned them three times before he had had Sawyer slip them in amongst the gowns and gems from Kate. Now here they were laying against the creamy softness of her neck and he felt his heart jump up into his throat.<p>

She looked apprehensive and skittish again and he wanted to say something charming to relax her but nothing came to mind. He scowled at his lack of inventiveness. Instead, he offered his arm to her, which to his relief, she took and they entered the dining room together.

As a confirmed bachelor, dining was a perfunctory affair based on timeliness, order and functional need. He required no table decorations and so demanded that none were present. He ate from the plainest of china and dined on the simple country fare of the locale. What met him was an elegantly adorned table setting, with arranged flowers and the best silver laid upon it. The food was a spectacular mix of local produce cooked in the French style. Footmen served with an efficiency that Christian had not realised they possessed, as all of his house staff were also simple country folk. It seemed that in one day, his wife had worked some kind of magic on them all and he could have been in his mother's house.

"Did you ride far today, Sir?" Ana startled him with her question as they completed the first course. She sipped her wine, daintily, drawing his gaze to the soft fullness of her lips. Inwardly, he groaned at his own lustful thoughts arising again.

"Yes. It has been a while since I have been here and I wanted to visit the outlying farms. I had not timed my return well and the weather caught us up as we got to within half a mile of the house. I apologise for dripping on the carpets."

She raised an eyebrow and he nearly choked on his asparagus. "Why? They're your carpets, after all, Sir."

"Christian." He reminded her firmly. "And they're your carpets too, Anastasia." He tried to keep his tone warm but he suspected from the twist of her mouth that he was failing.

"Mr Taylor was with you? Did he arrive in such a state and feel it necessary to drown the Aubusson, too?" Christian paused, and noticing the twinkle in her eye, let out a laugh.

"No. Mr Taylor would have been taken good care of downstairs, I would imagine. Mrs Jones would have given him the lashing of her tongue if he dripped on her floors."

The next course arrived with a flourish and they settle in to eat a feast of pheasant and rabbit.

"I was surprised to meet your chef. It is unusual to have a man working in this capacity in a country house."

"But not unusual when on the sea. LeCler was injured in a galley fire five years ago. That was when he lost his leg and I moved him to the Grange to recuperate. It didn't take long before he had taken over the kitchen."

"Your cook must have been pleased." Ana took another mouthful of the succulent meat.

"Oh, indeed. She was a good cook but an even better breeder of horse flesh. She runs the stables for me."

Once more Ana was astounded by what his words and actions revealed. It was obvious from his ride today that the tenants were a priority. He also did not let the injured slip from his employ. This Captain Grey, lit up when he talked of his staff and he spoke of them almost as old friends. Not as an employer. Yet, he was still relatively cold and unfeeling with her.

When she had tried to help him undress, he had batted away her hands even though his were clearly too cold to cooperate. Any time her skin had brushed accidentally against his, he had jumped in his skin, as if she were stabbing him with a stiletto. He held his body in such rigid reserve, she thought he might well turn brittle and break. Nothing she did seemed to be right. Perhaps he could sense something in her that he found distasteful. She had quashed the feelings of desire she had had for him. Had bitten her own tongue to the point of drawing blood to resist leaning down and running it over his taut stomach. When she had left him she had had to walk outside in the cold air without a cloak to try to cool the heat simmering beneath her skin. It seemed somewhat ironic that while she was burning hot with lustful fever, he held a mask of icy reserve that chilled her more than the touch of his frozen skin.

Although he seemed to have warmed to her a little over this dinner. Perhaps, if she worked with Mrs Jones, she might discover other things that might please him. She liked this softer and humane man who sat before her. If she could coax this a little more from him, there was a chance that they might even begin to be friends. She wondered if it was permissible or even possible to feel molten desire for a friend. Surely not.

"Goodness. And Mrs Jones? How long has she been at the Grange?"

"Gail has been here for five years, ever since her husband died. He was my 2nd mate." Christian's voice was sombre. Ana hadn't meant to hit a raw nerve.

"On your naval command?" Christian's mouth hardened as he nodded.

"Time to retire." He gruffly announced, suddenly rising from his chair. She had hardly finished her dessert and was not the least bit sleepy after her afternoon nap but here he was ordering her to bed. A flutter entered her stomach at the thought. Perhaps he wanted to come to her tonight. The thought was not unpleasant, or at least, not as unpleasant as it should be. When he had not attended her last night, she assumed fault, and she also knew in her heart that she was trying to make amends. Surely, she was playing with fire.

Rising from her chair, Ana tried not to show how eager she was to receive him. They ascended the staircase, her hand wrapped around his arm. Her body was trembling by the time he saw her through the door of her room and bid her goodnight. It was in that moment that she remembered what she wanted to discuss with him at the end of the dinner. If he had not rushed them to bed, she would have asked to sit by the fire in the library while she turned to matters that seemed to have been forgotten.

"Christian?" She turned and peered up at him. He was so tall, so dark. His gray eyes sparkled like the moon on the ocean on a warm, still, summer night. Her lips parted of their own volition.

"Yes, Anastasia?" His voice was a harsh, low growl that resonated in her stomach, sending a tremor through her body. His hand was still on her arm and she wanted to lean into him, but she needed to ask her question first.

"Will you still be sailing to France to rescue Ethan?"

Christian stepped away from her and she felt the chill as if it were a real wind on her soul.

"We shall discuss this tomorrow. Goodnight, Anastasia." He turned abruptly and walked to his door leaving her alone in the hall. She stepped through her own door and tried to draw some much needed warmth from the freshly stoked fire. Her ladies maid, a pretty French girl called Louise, was laying out her nightdress before undoing the fastenings of Ana's gown. Ana was deep in thought about the evening. As much as it pained her to see that Christian had forgotten his promise to rescue Ethan, she didn't believe for a moment that he would not use the adjoining door at some point. When Louise had departed, she readied herself for that eventuality as quickly as she could. Relaxing back against the pillows with a nervous smile she closed her eyes trying to calm her nerves. Without intention, she drifted off to sleep with the candles still alight, only to wake in darkness. Disappointingly, she was alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely support of this story, both here and on facebook. I am not above pleading here. This story is becoming very dear to my heart in a way that I never quite expected. I am trying to take great care with the writing and to make it the best that I can. I would very much appreciate your feedback, good and bad. I know that historical Christian and Ana isn't for everyone, if you love this you need to read Storms of Greysteinn by BannersandMash s/9151411/1/Storms-of-Greysteinn. Please, please, please review. I promise to name my first born after you. Okay, my first born is 19 and affectionately known as SlugBoy, but I'm willing to sell him at a good price. Alright, alright, I'll pay you take him away. And review. Please review. xxx**

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><p>Christian paced the floor in the library for a good half an hour before pouring himself a glass of brandy. He tossed the contents down his throat, allowing the slow burn to settle before refilling the cut crystal tumbler. As he watched the swirl of fiery liquid coating the inside of the glass, he resisted the temptation to curse his friend. Ethan Kavanagh had haunted Christian's every waking moment for the past six years, and most of his sleeping ones. Reminders of him were everywhere. God, he still had nightmares where he would wake, screaming and sweating from the mistakes they had all made. The years since Ethan's 'disappearance' had been full of misinformation and misdirection, as the Home Office made blunder after awful blunder, trying to locate him in the network of French jails. They had been told variously that he had escaped with a group of political insurgents, been deported to the Americas and was dead in a Bourdeaux brothel, the victim of a knife fight. There was never any definitive proof, and boat after boat had returned from France having failed to bring him home. Finally, a year or so ago, it had been rumored that he had turned traitor, having joined forces with spy networks of the French government. The upper management of the Home Office had chosen, in their wisdom, to believe this last. Only Haverstock, a spymaster of unparalleled skills, resisted the rumor and innuendo. He had officially agreed not to commit any further resources to locating and rescuing Ethan. Unofficially, he gave James carte blanche to do what he could, which included making use of Captain Blackheart, where appropriate.<p>

No, Christian had never forgotten Ethan and the plans that he was currently making had been in the works for nearly eighteen months, long before the Home Office had wiped their hands of the affair. To this end, Christian had given James command of the Ruby Queen to ensure that their planned excursions went ahead. For 2 years, their key informant had been moving through the locales of the Dutch traders, acting as a customs official and shifting as needed to avoid detection. For the last 2 weeks, the informant had gone missing and when Christian had been waylaid by his wedding to Ana, James had captained the Ruby Queen and gone in search of them. Nothing had come of it, as the ship could only sail under its official capacities and their other French contacts had grown skittish about making contact with an English boat in French ports. Now James and the entire crew of the Ruby Queen were missing and Christian didn't have a clue where to start looking for them. Blackheart needed to do what he could and that would mean leaving England for at least two weeks. Christian had been working up to tell Ana of these plans.

However, Ana asking tonight in the way that she did, opened a jealous wound that Christian did not know existed. Christian emptied the decanter into his glass for a third time and slumped into the leather arm chair. The brandy tasted bitter now, which seemed fitting. The more he drank, the more he convinced himself that the object of his every desire from the moment he had laid eyes on her, was in love with his friend. He tossed the glass into the fire, feeling some release in the shatter of glass and ignition of alcohol.

The first day aboard the ship, when she had made an attempt at storming his cabin, his desire for her had been instantaneous. A purely physical response to the distinctly male urges she awakened within him. She was so determined and fiery, defiant and beautiful causing his palm to twitch with the desire to put her over his knee. When they had kissed in the carriage, he was undone by her passion. He knew innocent when he saw it and Ana had had it written all over her face. But when she had thrust her small body up against his, her sex seeking out his, he had lost all sense of time and place. And when, in that kiss, she had opened herself so fully to his barely contained lust for her, he instinctively knew he had found someone who could share his darker side. The thought of her, submitting so completely had unsettled him. No, he had no doubt that Anastasia had physical desires that he could sate. But he did not fool himself; that was not love.

Love was what happened in the hours between night and day, when his dreams were full of her. Love was in the unhinging need to protect her from all the evil of the world. Love was in the vain hope that he could be the man that she deserved. Love was in the quiet moments when the smile she turned upon him, lit her eyes like stars bursting through a night sky. Love was in the creamy soft details of her face, the languid silk of her skin against his, the blush of innocence and the lustre of her hair escaping from its clasp as she went about her day. Love was in quietly holding her hand and the soft lilt of her voice as she bid him goodnight. Love was in the challenge and passion of her thoughts as she voiced her desires and disagreements. And from the moment he had entrapped her at the ball, any semblance of love had all but disappeared from her. Any hope that she might return his feelings had slipped away into the night. He was a fool!

Ana held strong to her love. He could see that she felt so terribly let down by those she loved dearly. Kate and Sir Raymond had disappointed her when they had not stood against him and she was struggling with their decision. He was not blind to that particular change in her. A man like Ethan would have united them all, not divided them as he had done. This thought must permeate Ana's waking moments as she wandered around this empty house. Ethan would have completed her, not destroyed her. Whatever might happen once Ethan was returned to English soil, Christian would not stop searching for his friend. If Ana loved Ethan then he would deal with it when the time came. Somehow, he would mend the rift between Ana and her father. Kate would be more of a challenge, but if he brought Ethan home, perhaps there was a chance of some sort of forgiveness from her. He needed so desperately to set Ana's world to rights and then, he would let the cards fall as they may.

Right now, it was time for Blackheart to sail again.

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><p>"Who goes there?" The voice called out as the small group of riders approached the rocks at the mouth of the inlet. Lantern signals had already been made so the voice was reasonably confident that the group approaching was exactly who they expected. It paid to be safe.<p>

"We ride at midnight." A voice boomed back.

"Tis a wild night for carousing."

"Not for a Lord on his lands." The code had been stated and the group re of horsemen relaxed their approach.

"Cap'n. Tis good you are here." A beefy hand reached out to shake Christian's as he clambered down from the rock shelf to the sand at the mouth of the cave.

"Our shipment has arrived, Briggs?" Christian reached back to help the cloaked woman over the rocks with Taylor checking her footing in the rear.

"Aye. The cargo's been transfered and she's ready to go, Cap'n."

Christian nodded and without speaking again, the group pushed a small row boat into the water and made their way out over the waves. Within a few minutes they had reached the ship anchored in the bay and without a sound the schooner headed out of the secluded inlet and out across the channel.

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><p>Ana was up early, hoping to catch Christian before he rode out for the day. Dressing simply, she made her way down to an empty morning room. Almost simultaneously, Mrs Jones backed into the room laden with the silver tea salver, and Ana wondered if the woman had some sort of sixth sense.<p>

"Mrs Jones. Have you seen the Captain this morning?" Mrs Jones paused for a fraction of a second then moved to the sideboard and placed the tray down.

"No, M'Lady. He was gone before I came up from below stairs. But I'm sure that he will be out around the estate again." Ana had a sixth sense of her own but still had no idea why the woman would lie to her. Schooling her disappointment at Christian's continued avoidance and the housekeeper's lies, she walked to the sideboard and poured herself a cup of tea before moving to the table to sit. Mrs Jones dished a plate of freshly made kedgeree, placed it before Ana then started to leave the room.

"Mrs Jones." Ana spooned a mouthful of food and waited for Mrs Jones to acknowledge her. "I should like to ride to Faversham today. Do you think you could send the groom a message to saddle a horse for me, please?"

"Shouldn't you prefer to take the carriage, M'Lady?" There was a warning in the question that Ana chose to ignore.

"No, thank you. I feel I need some exercise. A ride will do me good." Ana continued to eat, her eyes focused on the plate. She didn't, however, miss the look of consternation on the other woman's face.

"Very well, M'Lady. Of course, the local village is quite well appointed if you should need anything. There is no need to travel to Faversham."

"No, I shall go to the village on another occasion. Faversham shall suit my needs today." Mrs Jones looked like she wished to say more but held her tongue.

The groom had saddled a strong mount for her, probably as a way of discouraging her to go further than the boundaries of the Grange estate. She sensed Mrs Jones' hand in that decision and wondered once again, why the woman would not want her to leave the immediate district. However, Ana was a more than competent horsewoman and well acquainted with city life. With the groom's guidance she had arrived in the small town quite quickly. She was impressed at the layout of the buildings and the small range of shops that were available given the remoteness of the area. The southeastern district was new to her but she was enjoying both the proximity to the fresh sea air and the wild austerity of the landscape. However, being in the town would give her a better feel for the pulse of the district. She was certain that Christian must be known in a harbor town like Faversham and if he was intent upon going about his business, then it was incumbent upon her to make herself known to the local gentry. She was, after all, a Viscountess now.

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><p>"I shall only be an hour or so." The groom led the horses away and Ana made to cross the street when she noticed a group of women staring at her. She waved an acknowledgment but they turned away as one and walked into the church grounds. Frowning, she turned down the main street. It was an odd sort of reaction but she knew that sometimes newcomers were not easily accepted in a small town. Perhaps, she should seek them out later and invite them to the Grange for tea. Relishing the freedoms that she was now afforded as a married woman, Ana struck out on her own, sticking to the main streets and traveling from shop to shop at her leisure. Nevertheless, when she turned to look back up the street, she noted that the groom was hovering a few feet back. She smiled at the man before continuing along her way.<p>

Ana wandered the few shops without a particular purpose except to introduce herself as the Captain's wife. She had spent part of her morning, carefully inking her new calling cards and was prepared to take any invitations that might come her way. Only, everywhere she went she was met with reservation or downright hostility, as she handed over her ticket. On one or two occasions, she noted that the receiver would toss the card to the ground before she had even left the store. She wondered if perhaps Christian's icy reserve and antisocial habits wasn't the cause; her husband could be quite taciturn. After purchasing some ribbons, she made her way to a coffee shop. As she took her seat, the bell rang announcing a new customer. To her surprise the new arrival was Mrs Jones. The murmur of voices ceased as the housekeeper made her way to Ana's table.

"Good morning, Lady Grey. May I join you?" The woman was forthright, Ana would give her that. Given how unusual her morning had been, the way she was eyed with suspicion and disdain as she walked through the streets of town, she couldn't help but welcome the woman's advances. A small nod was all that was needed to bring Mrs Jones to the table. The maid served their coffee without saying a word, even though Ana had seen the same girl laughing and making conversation with other patrons.

"Are you enjoying your visit to Faversham?" Mrs Jones looked like she knew the answer already. Somehow Ana was going to have to pick the woman's brains regarding the strange attitudes she had encountered. Mrs Jones didn't pause for Ana's answer but picked up the cup and carefully raised it to her lips.

The murmur of voices had resumed enough for Ana to be sure that they could not be overheard. "Yes. The town is very pretty and surprisingly busy." She refused to say anything else about the strange attitudes that she sensed. Not yet, anyway.

"The bastard Captain's new mistress, no doubt." Two women were seated at the table adjacent to Ana's. They were smartly, if somewhat unfashionably attired, so she was sure that they must be wives of important local landowners or businessmen. Both women paused their cups at their lips, as they leaned in to talk in raised whispers. "I hear she was a servant. Rising above her station, thinking to marry the son of a Duke. A failed naval captain, if you please. She'll be another slut, like the others. Probably leave her brats all over the countryside and run back to the city. More for his collection of waifs and strays. Wouldn't be surprised if she's foreign, like the others."

A titter of laughter filtered through the room as everyone overheard the shocking words. Ana began to choke on her mouthful of coffee and Mrs Jones was up and out of her seat, clapping Ana on the back before helping her to stand. Ana straightened her riding jacket with two quick tugs before turning to the ladies' table. Being bested by these shrews was not on her list of things to achieve today. She drew herself up, walked over to their table, and stood with her back slightly to the woman who had been talking, while facing her friend. She had a few tricks in isolating the enemy up her sleeve and she wasn't afraid to use them.

"Good afternoon, Ladies." She spoke with as much clarity and enunciation as she could muster. These harridans would understand that she was, at the very least, one of them. "I wondered if I might introduce myself. I am Lady Grey, wife of Captain Lord Grey, Viscount Trevelyan." She watched their mouths drop open, one of them allowing her cup to slide onto the saucer with an unseemly clink of china. _Goodness, Christian really didn't use his title, did he? _Ana continued, "Lord Grey and I have recently arrived from our wedding at the Duke of Carrick's Bellevue estate and I have not yet, had time to present my card but I should very much like to extend and invitation for you to attend tea at the Grange, very soon. I am at home on Tuesdays and Wednesdays."

Ana did not think much about what their answer might be. Good grace and manners would prevail. Plus she was sure that they would come out of morbid curiousity, if nothing else. Whatever reason they felt justified to malign Christian, she would make it her mission to maintain his social standing.

They made no eye contact as they left, exiting the coffee house with the tinkle of the doorbell sounding in their ears. As they climbed into the carriage, Ana chanced a glance back at the windows of the coffee shop and noticed one of the women crumpling what appeared to be Ana's calling card in her hand and throwing it on the floor. Luckily, Mrs Jones had brought the carriage from the Grange, the groom having attached Ana's horse and his own to the back for the return journey, handed Ana inside. Nothing was said as they drove out of town, although Mrs Jones was ready with a crisply monogrammed handkerchief when Ana's tears began to fall.

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><p>Twenty minutes from town Ana raised her head. "What did they mean like the other ones?"<p>

There was a moment's pause as Mrs Jones considered her reply. Ana held her gaze, desperately wanting an answer to her question. And desperately dreading what that answer might be.

"Unfounded rumor and gossip, Ana dear." The use of her first name was not lost on her. Mrs Jones was placating a small child. She knew the tactic well. "Some people have nothing better to do with their time."

"I take it from that little display that Captain Grey does not make it his business to socialize with the good people of the parish."

Mrs Jones smiled and looked out the window. "The good people of the parish leave a little to be desired." Then she turned her body to face Ana with a smile. "Let me take you back through the village and you will see a different story."

Ana nodded and soon the carriage slowed its approach down a pretty country lane. Children were laughing and running about outside a thatched cottage as they pulled to a stop. There was a squeal of recognition as Mrs Jones descended. A pretty young woman ushered the children into a line on their approach, and Ana was taken by how happy, healthy and well-presented the children all were.

"Look children, it is the Captain's new wife. What do you say?" The woman spoke with a soft French accent and as a group the children gave an odd assortment of bows and curtsies.

"Good day, M'Lady." Their voices rose as one in a sing song tone. Ana laughed at their enthusiasm.

"Good day, everyone. Thank you so much for your lovely welcome." A very small girl smiled sweetly at Ana, shyly holding out her hand toward her. Ana glanced at Mrs Jones who gave a quiet nod, then took the little girl's hand and gave it a gentle shake.

"You are very pretty, M'Lady." The little girl's earnest compliment touched Ana's heart.

"As are you. What is your name?"

"Therese, M'Lady." The young woman moved forward and captured the children's attention.

"Now children. Inside. It is time to begin our numbers." The children bowed and curtsied to Ana again before disappearing obediently inside the cottage.

"A school?" Ana turned to Mrs Jones in surprise. The other woman merely smiled.

"Yes, Captain Grey insists that the village children are all educated. Mademoiselle Dalcrois teaches them and, in return, the Captain allows her to stay in the cottage and pays her a wage. Ana tried not to let her smile drop. Miss Dalcrois was a very pretty woman, with yellowish blond hair and fair skin. A young woman like that, living on the Trevelyan estate would be a temptation to any red-blooded male. Perhaps Christian had 'other' arrangements with Miss Dalcrois. Ana's heart sank.

They walked further down the lane and entered the inn. The innkeeper, a rounded and cheerful woman, bustled over to them, ushering them to a table by a window before bringing them a pot of tea. Mrs Jones exchanged pleasantries and in the course of the conversation Ana learning that the woman was another widow, who was known by all as Madame Fleur.

"Do you know the Captain, personally?" Ana was prying but she had an awful feeling that Christian's reputation with the local gentry might not be unfounded. Madame Fleur bent over the table revealing her ample bosom and a wide smile as she poured the tea.

"Yes, M'Lady. It were he that owned the inn and saw fit to employ me after my Hectoire died." Another trace of a French accent. Ana was more than curious.

"Were you originally from France?" Ana had no reservations about the amount of French citizens in Christian's employ but she was beginning to see why the rumor-mill touted him as a French spy, as well. However, with a conveniently located house on the southeastern coast, an estate of French nationals and connections with Captain Blackheart, perhaps Christian really was a spy.

"Aye, M'Lady." Ana inwardly laughed at the woman's attempts to sound more…British. She was doing it rather well. "It has been five years that I have lived here, though. This is my home now."

A shiver went down Ana's spine. Yet, another reference to five years ago. It seemed that the skirmish off Calais was a cause for Christian to take it upon himself to change the populated landscape of Southeastern England. Ana was not dull enough that she had not understood that there must be a connection. She had not heard of this skirmish but it obviously had had a large impact on the local community if not the district of Thanet.

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><p>After taking tea and hearing more about Christian's generosity, Ana and Mrs Jones climbed back in the carriage and returned to the Grange.<p>

"Pardon my curiousity, but you don't sound French, Mrs Jones." The woman smiled at her lap.

"That's because I'm not. Not everyone he has helped as been a French exile, Mrs Grey." How did she always seem to know what Ana was talking about? No wonder she was such a valued servant to Christian. It seemed that she could anticipate his every need. That particular thought caused a lump to form in Ana's throat. Mrs Jones was slightly older than Christian, but she was still a very attractive woman. Ana poked at her eye as if something was lodged there. It would serve her right if there was.

"Where might I find out more information on the battle itself, Mrs Jones?" Ana hoped that there might some records in the library at the Grange. From the look on the housekeeper's face, she knew she would be out of luck.

"You would have to ask the Captain, and to my knowledge, he does not speak of it. It is one of the conditions of his generosity that we don't speak of it either."

That last comment instantly undid all of the good will that Ana had been disposed to feel for her husband. Was he paying these people for their silence? Holding them all to ransom? And since they were for the most part, severely disadvantaged by their circumstances, the thought that he could be using some sort of coercive power over them all made her feel ill. She said nothing more until the carriage pulled up in front of the house.

Excusing herself, she went with the groom to ensure that her mount was taken care of. The opportunity to brush down a horse, something she only did when she was at her family's country manor, might give her some time to think. Taking her time with long and leisurely swipes of the brush down the horse's coat, Ana thought about her day. The upper classes of the district did not have much time for Christian. Those women had obviously never heard him use his title either, which was his prerogative but that, too, seemed strange. The rumors of his spying, piracy, and debauchery were not entirely unfounded but there was something about that skirmish that unsettled her. He had found it necessary to look after several victims of that battle and she was intrigued as to what might have occurred. Only, her recalcitrant husband would not let anyone speak of it.

When she had finished, Ana wandered across the drive toward the house, deep in thought. As she approached the building, she almost didn't notice a small dark-haired boy carrying a full water pail from the kitchen out to the vegetable garden. He began to pour the water over the plants carefully, giving each one just enough to sustain it. Ana moved toward him and he looked up at her like a startled deer. She paused, not wanting to frighten him but he dropped the pail and backed away quickly. When she was about to call out to him, he turned to run. Hurrying toward him, she watched as he disappeared quickly around the corner of the house. When she arrived around the corner herself, he was nowhere to be seen. Ana searched through the garden for a few minutes but there was not trace of him. Angrily, she marched into the kitchen door.

"Mr LeClerc. Did you see a small boy come from the kitchen, earlier?" The chef, who was stirring a big pot of stew, did not stop his work.

Instead he muttered, "No, I 'ave not seen, any boy."

His rudeness did not phase Ana. The man was clearly busy, for a start.

"Well, can you tell me, do we have a small boy working in the kitchen here at the Grange?"

This time the man threw down his wooden spoon and wiped his hands on his apron. "I 'ave no room for small boys in my kitchen. If a small boy has been 'ere, then 'e is clearly somewhere 'e oughtn't to be!"

The chef growled out his words as if he were warning Ana off.

"Monsieur LeClerc. Can you please tell Mrs Jones that I would like to see her in my study as soon as she is free?"

The chef grunted his ascent and nodded his head as Ana turned to leave. She carried on up the servant stairs into the main house, stripping off her gloves and hat as she went. Stomping up the stairs in a most unladylike fashion, she forewent a change of clothes and made her way to her study. With an angry toss of her riding jacket across to the small chaise, she walked to the window and looked out. If a small child was working here, then she would tear strips off Christian upon his return. She did not hold with child labor under any circumstances, even if the child was one of his French orphans. In London, Ana had campaigned vigorously with the ladies auxiliary to have laws drawn up that would forbid the use of children as laborers in mines and the burgeoning manufacturing industries. It was bad enough that the very young of poor and working class families were forced into work to keep family farms afloat but she would be damned if she would employ a small child in her own home. That child could only have been four or five years old.

A knock came at the door and Mrs Jones entered. "You called for me, M'Lady."

Ana noted that Mrs Jones had made the time to change from her riding clothes to her work uniform. The woman looked quite put together and calm as she faced her mistress. Ana knew she was in the right on this occasion but she still felt somewhat at a disadvantage with her own attire. She didn't let that slow her down.

"Mrs Jones. I am very concerned that I have seen a young child working in the house gardens."

"No, M'Lady. You must be mistaken. There is no child working here." Mrs Jones didn't even have the courtesy to look dismayed. Not even a small flare of her eyes to give her away. Still Ana did not believe her. She had seen the child with her own eyes, even if Mr LeClerc had been too busy to notice him.

"Do not lie to me, Mrs Jones. I saw a young child not fifteen minutes ago, carrying water from the kitchen to the vegetable garden."

Mrs Jones' eyes went cold and hard. "And I am telling you, Ana, that you are mistaken. We do not employ children here at the Grange. The Captain would not have it."

Her tone and words were so convincing that Ana started to back down. "But I saw…" Having been standing with her hands firmly planted on the desk, she now sat down slowly in her chair, feeling foolish. Goodness me. What had she seen? Palming her forehead, Ana took a deep breath, stood up and began to pace. This could not be happening.

"If you have no further need of me, M'Lady." Mrs Jones turned stiffly and left the room. Ana paused and watched as the door closed with a loud click. What had she done? Ana had one friend here at the Grange and she had just accused her of lying. Her thoughts flew back to all the years of unfounded accusations at the hands of her mother, and she wanted to weep. This was the stress of the wedding. The massive upheaval and change in her life. It did not have to be a sign of anything else. Still, fear struck Ana's heart as she sat back down at her desk. The shattered memories of Ana's childhood began to coalesce, sending a stream of visions and half forgotten memories, once suppressed, back to her. Her mother, accusing Ana of stealing her jewelery, hiding household items under her bed and accusing the servants of selling the silverware , chasing after a young man across an open field in her nightdress. A man who, as far as they were aware, did not exist.

Holding her head in her hands, Ana leaned her elbows on the rosewood desk as she thought about the conclusions she had jumped to today. So quickly, without proof or reason. Christian was avoiding her, Mrs Jones was lying to her, the townspeople did not like her or respect her husband, the school teacher was Christian's mistress, and he was both a French spy and a blackmailer. Now, she had seen a ghost. Ana felt her head starting to pound. It was stress. It had to be. Her mother was at least ten years older than this before she started her decline.

On unsteady legs, Ana rose from the desk, her eyes glazed and unseeing. If this was the beginning then she would have to tell Christian so that he knew what to expect, and soon. She didn't want to think about his disappointment when he understood that his life was now tied to a madwoman. She stood at the window and looked out across beautiful gardens towards the distant sea. At least, she might find some peace here. If she got to know the tenants, became part of their lives, they might take care of her in the same way that her father's tenants continued to take care of her mother. Bringing her back to the house when she wandered too far. Sitting with her during the days and trying to make her life as familiar and normal as possible. If this was to be her lot, then she would need to put in the time on the estate, to ensure that Christian did not have to deal with her alone. And there could simply be no children. Ever.

The answer came to her in a flash. There had been no consummation, nothing that would tie them together. With the Duke's assistance, they could appeal to the courts to have the marriage annulled. Christian could still be free. And with that thought the tears began to flow. Christian could still be free, to take her heart with him when he went. Then it wouldn't matter how soon the darkness would descend upon her mind, without Christian, there would be no more light.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: First of all, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story and for entering into the spirit of collaboration with your suggestions for future directions. I considered each and every one of them and for the sake of the story and character development I settled on this. I promise this is the last chapter devoid of lemony treats. I have, however, endeavoured to titillate your taste buds with a little bit of 'action' and a whole heap more sexual tension. Before you jump all over me about timelines - my incredible beta team have been keeping me on my toes and we now have an entire back story for Ethan that accounts for everything, however, you might be into Book 4 (yep, that's how big the plans are) before you find out all of it. A big shout out to all of you who took the time to review - I love the questions and speculation, it makes me feel like you are shaping the story along with me. And my sincerest gratitude to the beautiful ladies who make themselves available to read and fact check and edit: Ariadne, you always have those little tidbits of historical etiquette and factoids that give this story authenticity; Barbara, thanks for such a quick and thorough turnaround on the edits; Vanessa, you are my rock. Just when I think I have it right, you are the one who pulls me up and makes me answerable to my characters. I love you all. Sorry for the long note and the even longer chapter. It's the way I roll. If you want shorter chapters, let me know. I aim to please. Sasha xxx - oh, and please keep reviewing, it really helps!**

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><p>Christian did not arrive home for supper that night, leaving Ana alone with thoughts that caved in on her like a collapsing mine-shaft. Her head and body ached from the ordeal of the day. She retired early only to spend a fretful night tossing and turning in her bed, her mind troubled with half-formed dreams in which Christian was by turns presenting her with a child or lying hurt on the side of a dark and muddy road. Her restlessness caused her to wake later than her usual time and she was disappointed yet again to find that Christian was nowhere to be found.<p>

By late morning Ana had remembered that today was Tuesday and she should be expecting to receive her visitors in the afternoon. Although she did not feel well she dressed, taking care to present herself in the best possible light. Louise had performed magic on her hair, taming the errant tresses into a stylish and intricate weave of braids and curls. Ana regarded herself in the looking-glass and was content to see that for the first time since her marriage, she actually looked as she thought a viscountess should look. There was a refined elegance to the ensemble and she knew that when those nasty shrews came to call she would be prepared to take them both down a peg. Ana didn't like to feel so vindictive, but when someone was maligning a person she cared about she would defend her own. And she did care about Christian. He was her husband after all.

Once she was fully prepared she made her way down to the front parlor to wait. And wait. And wait.

No one came to call.

As afternoon turned to evening Ana became aware that she was being ignored by the women of local society, just as she was apparently being ignored by her husband. The isolation was an echoing abyss at the edge of a very high cliff. Being in this large house with no one to talk to and nothing to occupy the fearful recesses of her mind had Ana frightened that she might lose her sense of self and no one would be present to notice. Wandering aimlessly from room to room, Ana was about to pass out of the Orangery into the morning room when she heard voices in the hall outside. Louise was talking with another of the parlor maids as they worked, dusting the ornate woodwork that lined the downstairs hall. Their quietly animated conversation was carried on in French, a language that Ana had a passing acquaintance with. She was about to make herself known when she heard amongst the patois of their narrative, the words 'coeur noir' and 'coeur diamant'. Pausing at the door, Ana concentrated hard to pick up the rest of the exchange.

"But how do you know?" Louise asked, moving her rag quickly and efficiently over the beveled wood-paneled walls to the ornately carved cats that sat atop the balusters.

The other girl, who was polishing the handrails with beeswax, was quick to reply and Ana struggled with the translation. "Madame Fleur and Etienne were talking in the village today. Madame had seen the Black Diamond off the coast this morning. Captain Blackheart will be back on shore tonight."

"Were the flags flying?" Louise coated her rag with oil and swiped between the cat's tail and its sleek body.

"No. No, it seems they have had no luck again. Etienne said they will have to stay ashore for a while this time. A runner had arrived from Dover to warn that the Diamond was being pursued up the coastline by a customs ship. They will have to lay low for a week or two."

The girls went quiet as a door opened near them. Peering through the crack in the door, Ana saw Mrs. Jones standing next to the girls, quietly scolding them. Ana flattened herself against the wall holding her breath. Blackheart was going to be nearby. This was her one opportunity to locate him and request his assistance to rescue Kate's brother. Her heart was racing as she thought about the possibilities. She could prevail upon Christian to make contact with the pirate just as he promised to do in London. Or better yet, she might locate the pirate herself. However she would not be able to do either, if she were to pursue her immediate plans for an annulment. If and when she explained her reasons for wanting to end her marriage to Christian, she was sure that he would want to send her away immediately. If that were to happen, there would be no guarantee that either man would help to bring Ethan back to English soil. No, her plans to discuss their marriage might have to go on hold until Ethan was safely home. Given the way that Christian appeared to be avoiding her, she was starting to think this would not be a problem.

As Ana prepared for supper, she heard the commotion of Christian arriving in his rooms next door. She hurried to the door and listened for a moment. There was a lot of thumping and grunting. Ana thought perhaps he had arrived home in a foul mood. Deciding that entering the room through their adjoining door was a risky venture and far too intimate, she moved out into the hall and knocked gently on the dark wooden door of his rooms. Her excitement at the thought that they might be able to secure Captain Blackheart's assistance made her brave but not foolhardy. The next moment the door opened and it was not Christian who stood before her, but Taylor.

"Oh, I…." Ana faltered at the sight of Christian's man. His face was calm but his eyes were wild. She stepped back a little and then decided she had every right to speak to Christian. "I wanted to speak with my husband, if I may, Mr. Taylor."

Taylor regarded her for a moment then stepped through the door, blocking her view and closing them both out in the hall. "He's indisposed at the moment, Milady." Taylor's voice was gruff. There was another groan and a thump and both Taylor and Ana looked at the door. When it quieted, Taylor turned back to look at Ana again. He was smiling at her but it was far from a genuine smile. This was the smile of a man who was used to making problems go away, like an unwanted wife. "I don't think he can be disturbed."

"Oh." Ana took in the tenor of his words with wide eyes that had already begun to brim with disappointed tears. Christian was in his rooms and it was obvious he was not alone. Ana's thoughts immediately went to a dark place. She knew he might take a mistress eventually as most husbands did, but not now and not right under her nose. Not in her home. Her first consideration was Miss Dalcrois, the school teacher or perhaps even her pretty little maid, Louise. Then she heard the soft but indistinct tones of a woman followed by Christian's voice raised in a shouted curse and a grunt of pain. Ana's eyes flew to Mr. Taylor and instead of the teasing smile she saw genuine worry. She focused her eyes back on the door. "Stand aside, Mr. Taylor."

As she tried to push past, Taylor's arm shot out effectively halting her progress. Ana stared in shock down at his heavy forearm. It was only then she noticed that his jacket was removed and he was standing in only his shirtsleeves and waistcoat. The sleeves were tucked over to reveal his strong arms, dusted with a soft down of light brown hair. Why was he not wearing a jacket? Ana bit her bottom lip in consternation as she stared at the grimy sweat of his sunburned skin. The pattern of small cuts across his hand looked fresh but he didn't seem to notice them.

"I don't think now is the time, Milady." Another cry of pain sounded from inside the room. Her eyes instantly went back to his face with a glare.

"I said…Stand. Aside." Placing both hands on his arm she was pleased that he had the good sense to move when she shoved, saving her the trouble of squeezing those fresh wounds until he cried with pain.

Entering the room, Ana saw Christian lying on the bed, his shirt open, revealing the taut muscular chest. Meanwhile Mrs. Jones ministered to him. His face was twisted in pain as the housekeeper ripped his breaches from hip to knee in a sudden movement. Ana gasped as Christian writhed.

"Aaarrggghhh!" Christian's head was tossed back against the pillow, his face sticky with sweat. The veins of his neck stood out as he gritted his teeth against the pain. Mrs. Jones glanced over her shoulder as Ana moved closer to the bed, then returned to what she was doing. Christian's thigh was exposed showing a large angry gash high up on his outer leg. The flow of blood had already been stemmed and Mrs. Jones was cleaning the wound and applying a salve.

"What on earth?" Ana's first instinct was to cover her mouth and clutch at her breast. She did not easily faint at the sight of blood but the shock of seeing Christian in so much pain was unbearable. His glazed eyes focused and fixed on hers and her next impulse was to run to his side and hold him. Just as she was about to do exactly that, he yelled.

"Get her out of here." It took a moment for Ana to realize that Christian was talking about her. She looked from Mrs. Jones to Taylor. Nobody moved. "Taylor! Get her out!"

Taylor came to his senses and moved in behind the now shocked Ana, gripping her shoulders and turning her toward the door. She wanted to argue; she wanted to stay, but she was simply too stunned to speak. Her eyes focused over her shoulder at that wound as Taylor ushered her from the room. Christian looked at her and she nearly broke free to run back to him but Taylor stopped her from doing so.

"I'm sorry, Milady. We'll have him fixed in no time."

"But, how did it happen?" They were outside the door now and Taylor had closed it firmly, blocking Ana's view. She stared at the door and for a second Taylor followed that gaze before turning back to her.

"He took a tumble from his horse. It's not bad, Milady. He'll be right as rain in no time. You go on and he'll be down to dinner soon."

Taylor turned and slipped back inside the room. After a slight pause Ana walked away, once more feeling like a stranger in her own home. She had no idea what had really happened to Christian, but that did not look like a tumble from a horse. It looked more like the puncture of a knife. More importantly, Christian was hurt and she wanted to be the one to tend to him. Only he did not want her anywhere near him. She wiped a tear from her eye. He did not want her.

Inside the room Mrs. Jones was applying a bandage to the wound. Christian glanced up at Taylor who was tidying up his torn and stained clothes with a tight-lipped scowl. He looked at Christian accusingly.

"What?" Christian growled.

"Nothing, Sir." Taylor continued to fold up the torn and tattered clothing.

"You have something on your mind. Spit it out." Mrs. Jones completed her task and Christian used his hands to push himself back up the bed with a hiss.

"You're …I have naught to say, Sir." Trust Taylor to choose now to hold back. Christian quirked an eyebrow demanding that his Second continue. Taylor grunted and then did exactly that. "That lass would have fallen on a sword for you just then. And you…oh, it's not my place." Taylor gathered up the last of the items and walked to the door. Mrs. Jones said nothing but gave Christian a look of disapproval anyway.

"Not you too?" He called out as they walked through the door and left him alone. Ana had wanted to help. He saw that in her eyes. But then he might have had to explain and that would make things…difficult. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to tell her everything about his life. But revealing himself put far too much at risk. He was still weighing up that thought as he entered the dining room half an hour later.

She sat at the dining table staring mutely at the plate of food that had been laid before her when Christian walked in. True to his word Taylor had delivered Christian down to the dining room in time for supper and apart from a slight limp and a grimace as he made his way to the table, he thought Ana would be hard pressed to see any ill effects of the injury. The memory of forcibly ejecting her from his rooms hung in the air between them and Christian was unsure how to apologize. If she had come any closer he would have been brought undone by her perusal of his naked leg and chest. The thought of her touching him the way Mrs. Jones had made him suck in a breath. Pain or no pain, blood or no blood, he was only human.

"Are you alright?" She kept her voice quiet, as if she did not want to raise his anger. Christian recalled that her father had endured a small cut from a broken glass at the wedding and had acted like a wounded bull. It was obvious to him that Ana had no way of knowing what his mood might be.

"Yes, I'm fine. It was a silly accident but no real harm was done." He smiled, wanting very much to reassure her. She was so beautiful and he noted that her hair was done differently. It was so much more controlled than he had ever seen it before. He liked it but he liked the wild and untamed Ana, too. A vision of her writhing beneath him came unbidden and he had to move his napkin on his lap. "I'm sorry for alarming you."

"But you were in such pain." Ana's eyes were glassy as they looked into his. Christian felt humbled by what he saw there. They held for a moment, both too afraid to look away. He had to touch her.

"I have a low pain threshold. I didn't mean to frighten you." He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. Her hand was warm and soft in his. She wore no gloves. He liked that. "I promise you, it was only a scratch."

Ana nodded, biting her lip in consternation. Christian stared with longing and finally could not resist. He raised his thumb and unhooked her lip from her teeth. Her lips were so plump and ripe and ready for kissing. Running his thumb over the moist cushion he was rewarded with her breathy sigh. Turning his hand over, he brushed the back of his fingers over her blushing cheek. With a shy glance downward she gasped before looking back at his eyes, the telltale glistening of tears beginning to form. Christian felt himself falling into the limpid pools of her blue eyes, drowning in the depths of emotions she was failing to hide.

"I'm sorry. I was so worried when you didn't return to the house last night and then I dreamed about you lying hurt on the side of the road. And I had the most awful day, because… because I was so tired, I think and when I saw you lying on the bed…."

Christian could take no more. He leaned over and stopped her words with a kiss. It was chaste and sweet, just as she was, and he was so pleased when her small hands went to either side of his face pulling him closer. Their lips moved slowly together but without opening up to the sensual passion he knew she was capable of. Christian found he liked this kiss, its simplicity, the sincerity behind it. This was a kiss to cherish, a kiss to warm the heart. After a while they both pulled back, their foreheads resting against each other as they breathed in the air between them. He was reminded of her innocence and how right it was to take time with her, to coax her gently from her shell and to open up the passionate flower that he knew was lying dormant in her soul. She would be the greatest reward for his patience. And maybe, just maybe, he could make her forget her feelings for Ethan.

Knowing instinctively that she required more reassurance he spoke. "I am fine, Anastasia. I'm indestructible."

She giggled softly. "Ethan used to say that."

Christian pulled away from her returning his attention to the plate in front of him. For Ana it was a sudden and wrenching absence of his warmth, as if a penny had been flipped and landed unexpectedly on its other side. He picked up his knife and fork and began to eat the meal that had been growing cold. She had no choice but to follow suit but she was flummoxed by the sudden change of mood. It was very odd. He had been perfectly wonderful and then she had mentioned Ethan and…Ana's anger grew quickly. He never wanted to talk about Ethan, as if he had no care for the man he claimed as his friend. Chomping down on her mouthful food she then dropped her knife and fork to the plate with a clatter that made him raise his head.

"I overheard some news today that I wanted to ask you about." His face was completely impassive as if there was nothing that she could know that could possibly be of any use to him. Ana cursed his arrogance. He said nothing but returned his concentration to his meal. "Do you think it is possible that Captain Blackheart could be nearby?"

Christian's mouth and hands paused before he looked at her again with an interrogative gaze. She saw shock, then suspicion, then anger, wash across his face and yet his features never moved. Finally, he shrugged and returned to eating.

Ana thought he should say something, especially if this was the opportunity he was waiting for to rid himself of her endless badgering about Ethan. Lord the man was stubborn and…unpredictable. First he wouldn't let her near him; then he kisses her senseless; now he won't talk to her, acting at first as if she herself were a spy and then as if he could care less what she thought or felt. She had had enough.

"Why are you being so mercurial? You promised to do what you could to locate Blackheart and now when he is so near, you are uninterested in making contact with him. And why have you done nothing to find Lord Kavanagh? You told me yourself that you were about to sail for France and yet here you are, languishing in Kent. I don't understand."

Christian to her disgust, kept eating through her tirade, delivering each mouthful of food to his lips with alarming precision. The control he was exerting over his utensils was anathema to her mood. He simply would not be goaded and oh, she wanted so much to goad him. She wanted some reaction from him. Finally, he paused from eating long enough to take a drink of wine and when he replaced the glass on the table he stared at her.

"Why are you so preoccupied with Lord Kavanagh's rescue?"

"What? You know why!" she exclaimed. Throwing down her napkin, she pushed away from the table in one fluid movement and stood. Her eyes blazed with anger as he rose to meet her. The more her body shook with rage, the more calm he appeared to become, which only infuriated her more.

"No. No, I really don't know why, Anastasia. I know why Lady Katherine is consumed with his return. I don't understand why my wife continues this infatuation," he stated through tightly clenched teeth. Ana took great pleasure in noting that his voice was not as level as she had expected. Then she saw the bead of sweat breaking on his hair-line. His leg; Christian was in pain. She surprised him then by crossing the distance between them and reaching up to wipe his brow. When she placed her hands on his face she could feel the tremble in his body and knew that fighting was not what was needed now. She lowered her voice to calm him.

"Infatuation, my Lord? No, you are mistaken. Kate is my friend, as was Ethan before his capture." Her hands stroked down his jaw and landed softly on his shoulders. She could see the settling of the storm in his eyes. Peering up from under her thick lashes, she half-asked, "I thought he was your friend, too?"

After a mesmerizing moment, Christian replied. "He is", although the look on his face said something entirely different.

Ana pushed on, her voice almost a whisper: "Then, Christian, please tell me why are you not doing anything to find him? Why has everyone in England given up on him?"

Christian looked down at his beautiful wife as she tried to soothe him. She couldn't know how much her touch affected him. How every caress both burned and cooled. Her innocence shone through her pleading eyes and it was obvious to him that she didn't know what had happened to Ethan. It began to dawn on him that perhaps Kate didn't know about her brother's alleged treachery either. For a moment he gave careful consideration to not telling her anything and then thought better of it.

"Because they think him a traitor", he said.

"What? No!"

"Yes!"

Ana turned away from him quickly, back to her chair. She sat with her hand gripping her forehead as she tried to think. This could not be true. The Ethan that she knew was a man of honor, not a traitor.

After a moment, she asked, "And what do you believe?" She was afraid of the answer. Was this the reason why he was doing nothing, because he thought Ethan a traitor too? She saw him sit down again out of the corner of her eye and lean his forearms across the table as he considered his reply.

"We have tried several times to return him to English soil. All attempts met with failure. Then we got word that he had managed to escape prison and…" His throat tightened. The thought of the man he knew double-crossing his own country was untenable, but then Ethan had a lot of secrets that Christian, James and Elliot had been forced to keep over the years. Sometimes he wondered how well he knew Ethan at all, especially when he could see how upset Ana was by this conversation. "No, no matter what has happened, I don't believe that Ethan would turn against England. But in the end it doesn't matter what I think."

Christian watched her face carefully. She was obviously turning over each word of their conversation in her mind, trying to find some meaning. He could not tell her about James and the Ruby Queen, not until he knew more. He did not want to consider that he might have more deaths on his hands in this quest to bring Ethan home. Finally she looked back at him.

"What did you mean by infatuation?"

In part he was relieved that she had changed the focus of their discussion, but she had opened that particular door again and by God he couldn't help it. He stepped through. "Do you have feelings for Ethan?"

Her mouth first dropped open in shock and then she snapped it shut. "No. Not in the way you mean." Her voice was very calm and even as she wanted her meaning to be untainted by any hint of emotion. However her anguished gaze bespoke a belief in her own words. But Ana was young and naive. Perhaps she simply did not know her own heart.

Christian looked away from her face and continued eating, seemingly not hearing her words although his grip on his utensils was tightening when she asked: "So I wondered if you might be able to make contact with him?"

He paused with his fork on the way to his mouth but did not look at her. Then he continued to place the food in his mouth and chewed very slowly as if considering his next words carefully. Ana waited for his response but he said nothing. He just kept chewing on his food. She wondered if he had misheard her.

"Did you understand my meaning, Christian? I thought that perhaps you could…"

"I understood you, Anastasia." His reply was stern although he did not halt his eating. She was still obsessed with meeting Blackheart.

"Well…?" She was starting to feel shrewish. He placed his knife and fork carefully across the plate, took his napkin from his lap and dabbed his mouth before folding it neatly and placing it on the table.

"I apologize, my dear. My leg is hurting a little more than I expected. If you will excuse me, I think I shall retire." Christian was saying his words with the requisite amount of genteel politeness but his eyes were hard and cold and the line of his mouth thin. "Good night."

This was unheard of. A man did not leave a lady sitting at the table. She watched open-mouthed, as he limped to the door. He had almost reached the handle when she jumped up from her seat.

"Christian, I was merely going to suggest…" He turned to look at her, his face like thunder. She took a step back nearly tripping over her chair as she did so. The glimpse of his barely restrained anger both terrified and enticed her. He stood his ground like a warrior giving her an overwhelming urge to throw herself down at his feet. Biting her lip she looked down at her hands clasped in front of her body, her supplication an involuntary reaction to the intensity of his emotions. She imagined that this was what it would be like to have the alpha wolf taking charge of his pack. She was only moments away from a cowering whimper.

"Goodnight, Anastasia."

Christian's stillness in that moment before he left the room belied a calm he did not feel. He was not a violent man merely for violence' sake but he knew that his anger in that moment was unreasonable and that any further challenge was likely to cause him to regret his actions. He didn't want to intimidate or frighten her but he had to call a halt to her pleading for both their sakes. There was only so much that his male pride would take and her tenacity over Ethan and Blackheart were about to break the boundaries. He had only meant to send a warning with his words but when she cast her eyes downward he had the sensation that she was somehow handing him control. The thought thrilled as much as it concerned him. He would dearly love to command her body and bring her to completion. However he wanted her love and trust first.

But she didn't trust him. He sensed that she was harboring secrets and fears and until she could share those, there would be no submission. To make matters worse, he could not divulge to her all that he was doing to bring Ethan home. Aye, trust was an elusive guest at their table.

Inwardly he cursed at what was still ahead of him. They had made some progress with understanding the layout of the Brest prison in which Ethan was being held but they had not expected to be pursued and engaged by excise-men on their way back to English waters. The skirmish had been brief and they had eventually outrun their pursuers but not before a few injuries to the crew and ship had been sustained. Now they would have to spend days on repairs that would delay going back to France. Until he completed this task he could not ask Ana to trust him.

The next few days brought about what Ana started to think of as the monotonous pattern of her life. She would wake early only to find Christian was already gone from the house. Mrs. Jones would claim that he was about the estate but when Ana left home each morning to visit the village or call on the tenants with baskets of food, he was nowhere to be found. Her afternoons were spent preparing the baskets for the next day, reading, consulting with Mrs. Jones on the running of the house and a myriad of other meaningless tasks to fill her lonely hours. She would wait for visitors who never called and try not to be disappointed that none of the local gentry saw fit to invite her to call on them. Once she ventured to Faversham only to be greeted with similar disdain as on her first visit.

The boy appeared in her dreams that night. He smiled at her with Christian's eyes and mouth and she awoke wondering about him. She thought she had spied him in the village once but just as before, upon her approach he disappeared. The day after Christian's accident a child's laughter had echoed up from the kitchens but when she ventured to talk to M. LeClerc, he denied any knowledge of the child. On more than one occasion that day Ana caught Mrs. Jones looking at her with concern. It seemed that while Ana was convinced that her descent into her madness was not imminent, the housekeeper was less so.

On the third evening after Christian's accident he was walking Ana to her room after supper. Their conversation had been a warm and light affair that dwelt on matters of the estate. Ana chose not to speak of annulments or the snub of the local gentry nor did she bring up Ethan or Blackheart. She had noted that Christian looked tired and worried. Frustration appeared in the clench of fists and the incessant twitch of his knee. Most of all he looked tired, the weariness emanating from his pores.

The previous evenings had reflected the same mood, leaving Ana wanting so desperately to hold and soothe him and resolving to do so but at the end of each evening he would leave her at her bedroom door, effectively shutting her out with a quick kiss on the cheek and a terse 'goodnight'. Part of her was grateful for the reprieve knowing that their lack of a physical relationship played into her plans for eventually releasing Christian from this marriage when the time came, but mostly she was frustrated both physically and emotionally. Her body longed for him, wanting him to touch her with his beautiful hands and to open herself to satisfy his needs, and hers. Her mind yearned to reach into his painful recesses and draw him out, to listen to his doubts and worries, as a friend. Overwhelmingly the ache in her heart was incessant, the cracks forming in jagged lines with each bit of distance he put between them. But in the wee hours of the morning when she could not sleep and her longing for his touch was a temptation almost too strong to bare, she didn't go to him. Tonight she felt she could take no more.

Ana had paused at her door, one hand on the handle and one of the frame. "Christian, why have you not come to me?" Her words were whispered into the wood but he heard them just the same.

"Will you tell me what has been bothering you so?" He had been standing back from her but now his hands were either side of the door effectively trapping her in the space between the door and his body.

"There is nothing except that you don't want me to be your wife." Where did she start? Her fears and musings knew no bounds. He started to pull back and she turned to face him.

"Anastasia, I want to make you mine more than I can say, but you are keeping something from me; I can see it on your face. Why won't you tell me?" She thought to see amusement but all she saw was concern. God, his eyes were beautiful, intensely gray with flecks of hazel in the centre. She was mesmerized.

"I promise you there is nothing to tell." Part of her knew that was true. She had had no episodes in the past few days, nothing that caused any alarm.

Christian looked into the depth of her eyes and knew that she was not telling the truth. He thought perhaps to seduce it from her. Leaning in he placed a kiss on the line of her jaw and enjoyed her gasp. "Tell me."

He let his lips travel in a lazy line to her ear where he softly nuzzled then sucked on her lobe. Another sigh. "Tell me, Anastasia."

Catching the scent of arousal he smiled into her neck and slipped one hand to her waist. These were dirty tricks he knew but if Ana's passion would help her to reveal herself perhaps this game of seduction was a useful means to an end. Her groan as he massaged the flesh below her breast enticed him to move his mouth to her lips. She opened immediately, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in. Their tongues tangled playfully and he moved his hand slowly upward, feeling the heaviness of the underside of her breast. Her moans moved through her body and he doubted that she even knew she was pressing herself against him.

He was playing with fire now, but Christ she felt good. "Tell me, Sweetheart, what are you hiding?" His lips moved back to her neck, suckling gently as he massaged her breast.

"Nothing," she sighed, "but I do have a message for Captain Blackheart."

Christian stilled his hand then pulled back from her. "What message?"

"I need to tell Blackheart." She tried to pull him back down to her lips but the fury was building in him. He released her breast and pushed back from the door.

"What message, Anastasia?"

"Christian, I can't…" He smacked his hand against the doorframe above her head, making her jump.

"Then find him yourself." He turned on his heel, marched the few steps to his door and went through, slamming the door behind him.

Ana stared after him; her tears threatening. "Stubborn, stupid man." She had been about to tell him about her locket. That she couldn't say what the message was because she would have to show him but the locket was in her bedroom. Instead he had jumped to conclusions and walked away from her like a spoiled child. He was arrogant and petulant and a fool but she resolved to tell him tomorrow at dinner. If she didn't tell him soon, they would run out of time. In the meantime she would make one more attempt to locate Blackheart through the villagers.

Ana had endeavored daily to find out all that she could about Captain Blackheart from the villagers in the hope that she might be able to secure a meeting with him. The estate was populated with a rag-tag assortment of ex-sailors or exiles and their families, all of whom held Christian in high regard. The more she got to know them, the less she thought about her first instincts and fears. These people were far too loyal to him to be fearful and they spoke only of his kindness and generosity. They were welcoming and accepting of her, with their ready smiles and laughter, but no one would say a word directly to her about Blackheart and although she often overheard snippets that confirmed he was still nearby. She was beginning to give up hope.

The afternoon sun streamed through the study windows playing light across the desk where Ana studied menus and household accounts. Her eyes were tired from lack of sleep and she sat back in her chair rubbing them gently. Normally she would be out on her visits by now, but after her lack of success in the village this morning she was content to stay at home, nursing the beginning of what she hoped would not become a major headache. Her hand went to the back of her neck and she felt the tightness there. She stood to stretch out her aching limbs when she heard laughter from the library. Ana left her study to investigate. As she slid through the door to the hall the library door opened and to her surprise Christian stepped out in full riding gear. He had obviously just returned from whatever it was he did each day and as usual he looked exhausted. Ana's body responded in an inappropriately visceral fashion to the site of his boot-clad legs and the coating of stubble on his face. She longed to reach out and touch his skin with an ache so profound that her knees felt weak. His eyes held hers, with a little shock. It was if he could see her lust painted across her forehead and he was disgusted by her.

Trying to change both her mood and his, she straightened her palms down her skirts and took a deep breath. She noticed he did so as well, perhaps in relief at her change of demeanor. Ana knew she needed to focus on matters with Christian that could be considered neutral but her patience was growing thin. She recalled the abrupt ending to their conversation last night. Foolishly she had thought to talk to her husband but he was such an arrogant ass that she had not only failed in her task but had been left feeling physically unfulfilled. It was one thing for her not to want him to consummate their marriage, a whole other thing for him not to want to bed her at all. She had gone to her room feeling stupid for her lusts. It didn't change the fact that the information she had was time-dependent. Ana had thought long and hard about the note she had kept from Christian. She had not intended to hide it from him but the more he delayed his plans, the more she had felt inclined to keep it to herself. Only if she was right about what the information meant they only had days to execute a rescue and she needed Christian to understand this.

"Christian, I wondered if I might have a moment of your time." Ana fingered the locket at her neck resolving finally to hand over the paper it contained.

Christian eyed her with suspicion. "Speak, Madam."

Ana bristled at the harshness underlying his tone, and yet she continued on as bravely as she could. "I heard again today that Captain Blackheart was near the coast and I wondered if now might be a good time to discuss the possibility of effecting a plan to rescue Lord Kavanagh." As she spoke she undid the clasp of the locket around her neck and began to open it. "You see, I have…"

Christian closed his eyes and it took him a moment to answer. When he did, his voice was cold and hard, devoid of all emotion. "Why can't you leave well enough alone, Anastasia?"

"But…" He stepped into her body and gripped her shoulders. Ana's head started to swim as she struggled to maintain her balance. He was hurting her but she did not think he intended to. She saw now frustration, anger, disappointment, resignation. His jaw tensed as he glared down at her and spoke through gritted teeth.

"Do not challenge me any more on this." Pushing her away, he turned. Ana watched in dismay as he stalked down the hall away from her outstretched hand without a second glance. She felt the high emotion of the day closing in on her, and she snapped the locket closed with one hand as she pinched the bridge of her nose with the other. She needed to sit urgently and blindly reached for the library door. There was a brief moment when she looked through the door and noticed that one of the bookshelves appeared to be standing away from the wall and there, between the shelf and the wall, stood the little boy in her dreams. Ana froze with the shock. With his dark hair and intense gray eyes he looked for a moment just like Christian. Then he began to blur and when her eyes cleared he was smiling. She frowned. The boy looked like a dark-haired replica of Kate. It couldn't be! Ana blinked in confusion, looking from the boy to where her husband was now standing at the end of the hall staring at her with fear in his eyes. A wave of nausea hit her and just as suddenly the darkness engulfed her and she dropped the locket as she slumped to the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and questions. Thank you to my lovely betas for their comments, guidance and picking up the errors that I miss. Sorry, another minor cliffhanger but you just know that things are about to heat up. We'll be out at sea soon and then the fun begins. Please continue to review. You'd be surprised how many of your small and seemingly innocuous speculations and delights make their way into the story. Start rehearsing your pirate voices! Sasha xxx**

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><p>Some time later she awoke in her darkened bedroom. Stretching gingerly she was grateful for the coolness of the crisp cotton sheets on her heated skin until she realized that she had been stripped naked. Her first reaction, to sit up with a start, was put aside as her head threatened to explode in pain. She stilled. Before she could open her eyes she attuned herself with the familiar pounding of her head and heart. If she could bring those two recalcitrant bodily functions under control then she might begin to seek out the rest of her senses.<p>

Opening her eyes slowly was a mistake that caused her to groan. Immediately a cool wet cloth was placed on her forehead effectively covering her eyes. "Sshhh, my Darling. Lie still."

Christian. He cooed his ministrations, whispering for her stillness in gentle tones that had not been present in their last encounter. She was more grateful for that tenderness than she could possibly express to him at this particular moment. Finally he held her hand and kissed her brow as she drifted back to sleep.

Christian stayed with her all the rest of the day and through the night, sending Taylor to deal with the night excursions as best he could. The ship was almost repaired and ready to sail. However, he was not. He refused to leave Ana while she was so vulnerable. In spite of the doctor's reassurances that sleep would allow this condition to pass and that there was nothing he could do but to make her comfortable, he was still worried about her recovery. Ultimately, Christian wanted to be the one who was at hand for all her needs. As much as it pained him physically to see her naked body, he took full responsibility for bathing and toileting through the long hours as she slept. His response to her body was tempered by the frailty of her form and yet a constant state of semi-arousal had been his nemesis since she arrived in his world. What he felt now was nothing new and nothing that he could not control.

A knock at the door could only be Taylor or Mrs. Jones. No one else was permitted to enter.

"Sir, I am sorry to bother you but has she said anything more?" Christian shook his head. Since she had fallen into a state of semi-consciousness Ana had been talking in her sleep, muttering about the need to find Captain Blackheart. She seemed to be dreaming about a plan to save Ethan, claiming to have knowledge of his whereabouts. Even James with all his contacts had only been able to find out that Ethan had been in Paris a year ago but not where the French had moved him next. They had effectively lost track of him for nearly ten months until this latest information from Brest. There was a danger that he would be moved soon and they would just as quickly lose track of him again. What Ana thought she could possibly know was beyond him. However, given they had completed several fruitless trips to French ports in an effort to bribe officials and spies about Ethan's movements, they were truly running out of options. The prison in Brest presented a number of substantive problems for them but if he were moved again it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Christian rubbed his face.

"I've tried to get her to talk but she keeps saying she will only talk to Blackheart. I refuse to push her any further while she is so ill. It seems that Blackheart has more effect on my wife than I do." He glanced at Ana again with a sullen look.

"Jealous of him are you, Captain?" Taylor asked with a chuckle. "We could try searching the room again. There may still be a letter or something that can give us a clue."

"I don't feel good about prying into her private affairs. A woman must have some secrets, even from her husband." Taylor grunted his ascent. He was an honorable man. Christian wouldn't have bothered seeking his counsel if he weren't.

"Even if they concern a notorious pirate?" Taylor raised an eyebrow causing Christian to grimace. Then he leaned in and lowered his voice. They both knew that it was folly to trust everyone who worked for them. "You know that this next journey to Brest is going to have to go ahead. Did you not think to tell her that you would be gone for two weeks or more?"

"Aye, I thought. I just couldn't put it into words. I had hoped that we might…" Christian looked down at Ana's sweet face. The fear that he had felt as she fell to the ground overrode all his reservations about speaking with her. The wasted time had played on his mind as he turned over her locket in his hand during the long dark hours of the night. He didn't want to collect any more regrets. "Never mind what I thought. I just didn't tell her."

Taylor clapped a hand on his friend and employer's shoulder once more. They had been through far too much to stand on ceremony. Christian sighed and reaching out, stroked his fingers down Ana's flushed cheek. She stirred and Taylor took his leave quickly in case she woke up. As he got to the door, Christian said over his shoulder: "Blackheart will be leaving tomorrow night as planned. Let the crew know."

The fog lifted for a moment and Ana registered the male tones in discussion over her. She felt the sensation of a touch and the words she had been dreaming about. Blackheart. He was here somewhere and now was her only opportunity to get a message to him. The note that had been delivered to Kate weeks ago was copied out by her own careful hand and tucked into her locket. Ana's hand reached to her neck but to her dismay, the locket was not there.

Trying to rise from the bed, she felt a hand press her back down. "Rest, Love. What do you need?"

"Christian?" Her throat was dry and her eyelids still heavy. The incessant pounding had settled into a dull ache.

"Yes, Darling, it is I. Tell me what I can do for you." His fingers felt so good as they soothed through her hair. She moaned like a satisfied cat. Then his lips touched the skin of her forehead and she looked up into his face. "Oh, Anastasia, that is a sight that I cannot get enough of, your beautiful blue eyes, open and focused. I've missed you so much, my love."

She felt she must surely be dreaming given his gentle touch and his soothing words of endearment. Gone were the harsh lines of Captain Grey and here before her was Christian, her Christian. She bit her lip unsure of the transition in him only to hear his hiss and see him close his eyes as if in pain.

"Christian?" Perhaps he had caught her malady, although in all her years of suffering from these headaches she had never known of anyone catching them from her. Oh, it was his leg. It must be his wound hurting him. Yes, he was rubbing his hands down his thighs. That must be it. But as she watched she felt a familiar longing welling up inside her. She groaned. It was always the same, first the headache and then…

His lids slowly opened revealing the intensity of his gray eyes as he smiled down at her with a smoldering look. "I'm sorry, Darling. For two days I have sat and waited for you to return and now that you are here, I find myself fighting for control."

"Control?" She had the vague feeling that with all she was missing she may have leaked out a part of her brain. She could not understand what he was talking about but she liked what she saw in his face. His eyes spoke straight to the private places of her body and she could not stop herself from squirming in an undulating wave of response. He groaned once more, threatening to remove his hands from her face. She grabbed them with her own forgetting that she was naked beneath the sheets and completely unaware when her right breast became exposed.

He gasped, "Anastasia!" It was a deep rumble from his throat and she knew that she had to have his hands on her body, not just on her face. He looked at her in shock as she placed his hand on her breast. "Are you sure?"

Was she? She did not know what to be sure of. The fire was intense in her belly. And his hand, oh God, his hand, it soothed. Here she was wakening from a deep sleep to the man she desired beyond all reason and it all still felt like she was dreaming. Only this was real. She felt his touch on her aching breast. He was real and she wanted him more than she wanted to take another breath. Her body ached with the need and yet in the weeks since they had first met they had hardly kissed. Lord she needed him to fix that. She needed him to touch her. She licked her lips and he groaned again, sending a jolt to her groin. Oh God, it hurt. She needed to make it stop. She needed him to make it stop.

"Kiss me, please!" she gasped, as her hips lifted off the bed. Oh, she was so wanton and lustful asking so much of him. And then his lips were on hers draining her of all sense. He teased the edges of her mouth but she could not hold back as she opened up to him. Not requiring another invitation, his tongue swept through her mouth on a series of moans that threaded through her body. No she held nothing back, taking what she could while she could because surely he would be horrified by her passions and withdraw from her soon. If this was the last time he kissed her like this, then she wanted to remember. But the pain welled up from below again and she thrust her pelvis upward throwing him off balance. He had perched one knee on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on either side of her head. Now he had landed his groin to hers and she rubbed against him wantonly, trying to make the aching fire stop.

Her desperation was like an opiate as his hands slid down the sides of her breasts, a tantalizing whisper telling her that there was more. Not knowing or caring that she was wresting control of the situation, his hips ground against hers and she cried out. As the gasp escaped her lips his head lifted in concern, concern changing to delight as he saw her response to his touch. Bowing his head he took one hard, peaked nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, then swirled his tongue around it. As he did so his hand massaged the underside of her full, aching breast bringing all the sensations together and Ana cried out as some connection was made to her womanly parts. To say that she had never experienced such a feeling would be an outright lie. It was part of her condition after all. However to say that she had not experienced it like that, at the hands of a master, was true beyond belief. When he elicited the same response from her other breast she thought she might rise off the bed unaided, such was the force of the sensation as it hit, and the relief, oh God, the relief.

"La petite mort." He whispered as he moved to suckle her ear. Yes, quite. The Little Death, but already it was building up again, the fire all consuming. She was surely going to go to hell. "You are so responsive, my love, so beautiful to behold. I cannot express how much I want to lie with you."

"Then do it. I want to be your wife." She didn't recognize the need in her own harsh whisper. If he did not take her now she would die. She knew it. Once more she pressed upward.

"But you have been ill. You need to rest."

"NO!" Her eyes widened in desperation. Every other time in her life she had had to deal with this on her own. The results were always less than satisfactory, leaving her feeling shameful and unfulfilled. Now here was her husband and he could ease this terrible, fiery ache that burned between her legs. She simply knew that he could. It would be more than she could bear to have him walk away from her right in this moment. Tears threatened, choking her throat as she pleaded, "Please, Christian. Please!"

Christian paused for a moment. He had never witnessed anything like this in his life and he was not quite sure what to do. She had been by turns so pale and frail, then flushed and writhing with her illness; first, hardly able to drink or even lift her head from the pillow then unable to be still. The doctor had said that it would only last a matter of hours or days at most and Mrs. Jones confirmed that one of the women from the village also suffered with the same affliction. He had been sure that there would be days of recovery. Now here she was demanding, pleading for her conjugal rights, begging for sexual completion far better than an experienced whore in a brothel. His mind was spinning but having been in a permanent and painful state of arousal for days, he was powerless to resist her.

Stripping off his garments, he climbed in beside her naked body, the body that he had sponged so lovingly only hours ago. He touched her with reverence, his fingers grazing the silk of her skin but her frantic hands grasped his and shoved his hand firmly between her legs with a gasp. He nearly lost his control with that one swift movement.

"Christian!" She cried out again and he marveled at the speed and intensity of her orgasm. It was beyond anything that he had seen and it was beautiful, so beautiful. She was crying as he inserted his fingers, causing him to think that he had hurt her but then he felt her pulse powerfully around his hand yet again. God! She was amazing!

"Tell me, Anastasia. Tell me what you need." He continued to stroke as he murmured into her ear, keeping his body pressed the length of hers to anchor her.

"You, all of you. Please." Her plea held that desperation once more. He rose over her and poised at her entrance. He had never taken a virgin and his moment of hesitation was about not wanting to hurt her. He had thought to ease into her gently, to talk her through the worst of the pain and hope that she would want to continue. He breathed deeply preparing to use all of his control. Instead she grasped his hips and pulled him in, causing him to thrust harder than he had intended. She cried out with the short, sharp burst of pain as he breached her maidenhead and he would have stopped then and there if she hadn't begun to thrust against him. Pushing her pelvis up toward his gave him no choice but to thrust down in response. Every instinct told him to slow down but he was powerless against her will.

"Ana! God!" those two words becoming a deity of higher proportions in his mind. He pressed on letting her set the pace, meeting her with his own power. With an almighty yell that started in the base of his spine, he let go of the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced, filling her completely as her body convulsed around him. She screamed out his name as she came harder than all the previous occasions combined, her muscles clenching so hard around him that it was almost painful.

Rolling their bodies over and holding her close as she came down, Christian was smiling so hard that he almost didn't notice the wet drops hitting his chest. She was crying in earnest, her body shaking gently with the emotion.

"Ana, Darling, what's wrong?" He frowned as he pulled back from her a little so that he could regard her face, hoping that they were tears of joy but somehow knowing they weren't. "Oh, God, I'm sorry Ana. It was too early. I shouldn't have…"

"No, no." Her finger touched his lips to silence his concerns. A wan smile was all she could muster through the ongoing tears. She tried to bury her head against his chest but he placed her down on her back and rose on his elbow to look at her. He had just watched the woman of his dreams come apart in his arms over and over again with such passion and delight that he felt transported. Now she was crying with the intensity of a lost child and he had to know what was wrong.

"Ana, please. You're frightening me. Darling, tell me what is wrong."

"You…you…must be horrified by me. I am so horrified at myself." For an awful moment he thought she might be one of those pious religious sorts who demean that which is natural and beautiful between a man and a woman. Surely not a woman of such passion. Surely not his Anastasia.

"I don't understand. Why would I be horrified? Why would you? Ana I have no idea what you are talking about."

"But that…that cannot be normal." She said in a small whisper. He had no idea about normal but he felt blessed. Only right at this moment, he had no idea how to explain that to Ana. They hardly knew each other. He blamed himself for that. He hadn't given her enough of his time to know what might be in her heart. However confessing how amazing she was as a lover seemed wrong; he didn't want her to think he was some sort of pervert. He tried to draw on the experiences that he knew of other married people but the only ones he had spent any considerable time with were his own parents and they were nauseating, hardly able to keep their hands off each other. He wanted that with Ana, God help him he wanted that, but looking at the abject horror and misery on her face, he wondered if that was what she wanted at all. What he did know was that if a woman didn't want to enjoy intimacy then nothing would persuade her otherwise. Pure intimacy was a matter of trust that would allow passion to engage the body, mind and heart. The rest was just lust and obligation. That had its place but not in this marriage. He wanted Ana to trust him and he knew that she didn't trust him right now.

"Ana. Nothing about you is normal." And in those few words that he intended to expand on he knew he had lost her. She shot up from the bed taking the sheet with her and leaving him naked and exposed. From the look on her face that seemed only right and just.

"Please leave," she whispered from the other side of the room.

Rolling over to face her he thought he might have a shot at fixing things but she turned away. "I didn't mean that."

"JUST GO!" she yelled up at the ceiling before her body crumpled down on the seat by her dresser.

He stood up and donned his breeches, not taking his eyes off her shuddering form. She sobbed into her sheet, her hair disheveled and curling around the bare skin of her shoulders. He suspected that even with red and puffy eyes she would still be the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon. If she rejected him completely his life would be over. He knew that without doubt. Now that he had had her there was no life without Ana. And if he left her here to rusticate while he jaunted off across the channel to play pirates then there would be every chance that she would high tail it back to London. A loose plan began to formulate in his mind as he pulled his shirt over his head.

For her part, Ana had never known such embarrassment. She had thrown herself at him like the wanton hussy that she always suspected she was and now she was paying the price for her lustfulness. There would be no annulment. Her uncontrollable urges had just put paid to that. Christian was now forever saddled with a wife who over time would descend into madness and this lustfulness was just one of the many symptoms. This…affliction was all part and parcel of the madness that consumed her mother. Her mother did not suffer with headaches but on more than one occasion she had been found with her hands under her clothes as she tried to sate herself inappropriately. Ana suffered from the headaches first, followed by the all-consuming pain of bodily urges that demanded attention to make them go away. Christian might have been mildly amused by what had transpired tonight, but in time the seeds of doubt and mistrust would be sewn. Her lusts were too wild when they came upon her and to lose him because of something she could not control was now unthinkable.

Strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her from the stool, carrying her back to the bed. Instead of laying her down he sat with her in his lap and simply held her while she cried.

"I wish you would go. It would be easier on both of us." His body stiffened beneath her and then he softened his touch, placating the small child again.

"I'm not going to leave you while you are so upset by this. I am still in awe of the beauty of my wife and my heart hurts that she is so… sad." His voice was low and soothing, his hands stroking her hair.

"You are enamored by this moment. In time you will be, most likely, disgusted, at best, piteous."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. I've lived with it all my life."

"Yet, I was your first lover."

"You will be my only lover. But this must be the only time I am loved. I am not naive. You must take your needs elsewhere and I will not stop you. We must not do this again. I have seen first-hand what happens when control is lost. Over time it worsens until there is nothing of self control left when the urges hit."

"How will not being with me help you?" He wanted to understand her reasoning but none of this made sense. Only it seemed to make sense to her so for that he would try.

"If the disease is not fed then it cannot grow. It can be contained."

"First of all, I don't know why you think of this as a disease. Secondly, how do you know this…?"

"I don't. But I have seen the damage that this disease has wrought on my mother, so this belief, this theory, is all I have to give me hope."

"I see." Christian was not sure that he saw at all. Ana's mother was a tad eccentric and from all accounts had some strange ideas that Sir Raymond was keen to suppress, but other than that she appeared quite normal. "And if I disagree?"

"Then there is nothing I can do. I am your wife and I will do my wifely duties but you should know. I will not have children. I will not pass this…affliction on to my children." Her face twisted with disgust.

"And exactly how would you propose to prevent children?" He knew that working girls had their methods but none of them were failsafe.

"I have sought advice on how to prevent and how to… cure."

At those words he was tempted to throw her over his knee and spank the living daylights out of her. She would not 'cure' herself of his children. Not that being his child was going to be the most salubrious experience, always being outsiders to society. Perhaps she had a point about not having children, however, the chances of surviving these so-called 'cures' were minimal. He stored this information away for later. Arguing with her now would not help the situation.

"I can see I will have to think on this and we shall have to discuss this further."

"Can't we just decide this now? I'm right, I know I am."

"You may well be technically correct but I am a businessman and a strategist. I don't make decisions of such import without careful planning, consideration and negotiation. Therefore we shall both take time to think and discuss later. We shall reach a mutual agreement that will suit us both moving forward as that is the sensible thing to do. You have given me your terms and I shall consider my own."

She paused for a moment and then nodded. "Alright."

"I take it that you have particular measures that you would like to take now?" Ana nodded. She had not thought about that beforehand but he was right. She could not take any chances.

For his part, it angered Christian to think that Ana might take such steps but he also knew that her emotional state was fragile and this was a form of control. He would allow it for now and work to renegotiate this aspect of the arrangement in time. "Very well, I shall ring for a bath."

Reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat he pulled out the locket and placed it on her dresser before he left the room.

Ana was grateful for the time and the space to clean her-self in the way that Andrea had instructed her. It was too late to insert the vinegar-soaked sponge but if Christian insisted on bedding her then she would not allow herself to be caught again. With regards to those other matters, Andrea had been quite adamant that if she chose that particular path she must consult with her first. There were inherent dangers that might cost her her life, however Andrea knew people who claimed to be able to minimize the risk to women who required these services. She had been clear about the horrors and why Ana should not try to navigate the charlatans and back-room murderers herself. When Ana asked Andrea why she was taking such care with a relative stranger she said she owed Captain Grey her life. She would repay the favor.

When she was bathed and ready for supper Christian met her in the dining room. Even though the footmen hovered he served her himself, taking great care with her every want and need. His gentle attentiveness was quite overwhelming and she knew that her heart was engaging. He had whispered words of endearment and love to her when she woke up but he said nothing of that now, somewhat proving to Ana that she had misinterpreted his intentions. Of course he would not say such things in front of the staff but her fear now was that when her love grew, as she knew it would, his would diminish as he realized the error of marrying her. All she could do now was guard her heart as best she could.

"I wanted to let you know that I have tried to talk with Blackheart." Christian was calmly spearing his mutton with a fork as he snuck a sideways glance at her. Ana was too stunned to speak. "He refused to meet with me. His ship was apparently damaged and he has been too preoccupied with the repairs."

"But you will try again?" Ana's voice was close to breaking.

"Before we married I was preparing to sail. I have postponed it for as long as I can but I must leave tomorrow. So no, I will not be able to talk to Blackheart until I return." His hand reached across the table to her, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, Anastasia. We will have to hope that another opportunity presents itself."

"How long will you be gone?" Fingering the locket, she kept her gaze focused on her plate as her heart began to shatter. She knew that as a sea captain there would most likely be long periods of time without him. She swallowed down her disappointment that it was happening so soon after they had finally started to communicate. It all seemed like a cruel twist of fate but it would mean that he would be making an attempt to locate Ethan.

"Two weeks." Christian's face was impassive. Ana waited a moment but he gave no other information.

"What are your plans?" He sneaked another look at her but she was concentrating hard on her food. His hope that she would share her information willingly was diminishing with each mouthful.

"I have a plan of attack. There is a small possibility that we will be able to locate Ethan in the place where we believe that he is being held but I do not hold out much hope. The French authorities move the political prisoners at regular rotations to stop such attempts. There is no pattern or reason to the movements."

That, Ana thought, was where he was wrong. "Where will you start?"

Christian took a deep breath and hoped that his plan would work. "We will start in Calais and work our way through the sea ports before making our way to Paris."

"Calais? But, why Calais?" She looked genuinely concerned and Christian took this as a good sign.

"We have to start somewhere. My plan is to be as systematic in our approach as possible, to take our time." He didn't want to give too much away. Their latest intelligence said that Ethan was in Brest and Christian would be heading straight there. However if Ana knew anything of value this would be the time for her to speak up.

She fidgeted with her locket again. He watched her carefully as she considered what she would do. Finally, she looked up at him.

"How long will it take you to work your way along the coast?" His heart sank. She was hedging, still weighing up whether to trust him or not. "I only ask because I wondered if it might not be more likely that he would be somewhere other than the landing port for the British fleet."

"He may well be but without more information…"

"I…" He willed her to keep talking but she retreated once more. "I might know where he is."

He laughed. "That would be a first. To achieve what the home office has been unable to for years." And even though his intention was to lighten the mood he saw from the cloud that crossed her face that it was exactly the wrong approach to take with her.

Oh, the arrogance of the man, as if this intelligence was not genuine when she knew in her heart that it was, but men did not act on intuition, only hard facts, and what she had to show him most likely would be dismissed. He had just said that he was careful with planning and strategy. If Ana was right about the information then their best opportunity was going to be in Brest in 3 days. But she could be wrong. It was that thought that stopped her in her tracks. Christian noted her anger and knew instinctively that she would not be forthcoming.

"You're right, of course."

There was a spark of interest and then he did something that she only knew of from observations. He leaned forward, looked her in the eye and said, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about such things, my dear. If the might of the King's navy can't locate Ethan, then I don't know what can. But perhaps you should give that information to me just for safekeeping."

There was something in his tone that caused her some alarm. He was smiling but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Now did not seem to be the time to trust her husband.

"Oh, I have the information stored in my head. I would write it all out for you tonight, but I find that I am still quite tired after my illness. Perhaps tomorrow."

He sat back and drank his wine, watching her intently. "Yes, perhaps."

Christian found himself staring into his glass with disappointment but not surprise. For whatever reason Ana didn't trust easily and as he considered all the things that he didn't share with her he thought her wise. No, he was not surprised. He only hoped that she would take the bait.

During the night he disobeyed his own counsel and unable to resist went to her bed. Her sleepy welcome was encouraging as he made gentle love to her, relishing her body in his arms. Their passions matched perfectly as he drove her to her release and his own. Lying satiated beside her, there was a sense of delight in the fact that she had not refused him, but he knew she was still holding something of herself back. He wanted that part of her so desperately, more than he had from any other lover he had ever known. He supposed this was desire that came from love. Would that she might feel a little for him of what he felt for her. Afterward he had held her while she slept, knowing that he should slip out of her bed but being unable to make himself leave.

He had already put his plans in place and he hoped that when the time came Ana would be amenable. In the end he hoped that she would be able to forgive him his sins. If not, then this time away from each other might serve for both of them to determine how the rest of their marriage might proceed. The warmth of her skin as she allowed him to mold himself into her body was a comfort he would long for on the long days and nights at sea. He shook his head at the thought that he had become so quickly enamored of her, needful of her, when he had spent so many days avoiding her company. A waste, he determined as he drifted off.

Ana had taken longer to fall asleep than Christian knew. Twice she had been tempted to wake him and share the knowledge she kept from him. She had let her anger at his words stand in the way of helping Ethan. It was foolish pride and folly. Christian had been kind and attentive during her illness; he had not spurned her lustful needs, even seemed to welcome them. He had not laughed at her when she spoke of her fears, and even though she had not felt brave enough to voice them all, she suspected he would have listened with an open mind. He had spoken words of love hadn't he? And she, out of fear or pride or foolishness, or perhaps all three, had said nothing. Eventually, in the wee small hours as his breathing evened out and his strong arms wrapped around her possessively making her feel safe and wanted, she resolved to tell him what she knew. But it could wait, until the morning before he sailed. For now he, they, needed sleep.

Only when she awoke, he had already gone and that was when her panic began to set in, in earnest.

Pacing the floor in the library she tried to decide the best plan of action. Ethan had only days left before they would move him again. Of that she was certain. And Christian, her beloved Christian, was about to take unnecessary risks and time by his methodical approach and that was her fault. If he knew the plans for movement he would go straight to Brest but she had failed to share what she knew and now he could be sailing into a trap. Ana presumed that she had one opportunity and she was basing this knowledge on a half remembered dream. However it was the only chance she had left to take matters into her own hands on Kate's behalf and to get a much needed message to Christian. She had hastily penned a note to Kate outlining her plans and sent it back to London. Although they hadn't spoken for some time it was important to Ana that Kate know that she was doing all she could for Ethan and that any part Kate had had in Ana's wedding had long since been forgiven. However she was grateful that Kate wasn't close by to stop her from her current course of action. Given Kate's aversion to Christian, Ana was certain that Kate's friendship was doomed to become a distant memory.

Moving quickly through the room, her hands were shaking as she fingered the locket. She had taken it upon herself to try to elicit the whereabouts of Blackheart from the villagers and although no one had been entirely forthcoming, there were snippets of information that Ana was currently turning over in her head. She had dropped into the inn to see Madame Fleur and the innkeeper had shared her knowledge of the trouble spots on the coast road with regards to recent smuggling activities. Ana had asked under the guise of keeping herself safe on her rides. Now crossing to the to the large map table, Ana studied the map Christian had in the library of the local area. Having considered Madame Fleur's advice she had determined the two most likely places to find Captain Blackheart.

Ana traced the line of the coast road with her finger, committing it to memory. Her back ached from leaning over the map table and she straightened up looking about the room as she did so. The memory of the bookshelf came back to her as she glanced to the corner. Had she imagined that it had opened? She knew that there were often secret passageways in old houses, the remnants of Tudor times when priest holes and escape routes were a necessary part of the architecture. Could that really be what she had seen?

The bookshelf beckoned her and within moments she was engrossed in examining it with her fingertips. After half an hour she determined that she must have been dreaming. There was nothing that she could find that would shift in any way. Turning from it she walked back to the map on the desk. As she approached she noticed other documents, aged and stained, peaking from underneath the main map. When she raised the map to look closer, she could see first a detailed plan of the house and grounds of the Grange. The northern wing of the house was missing from the drawing indicating that the house had been added to over time. Beneath this was a topographical map of an area of land that extended from the Grange lands to the coast. Her husband was a collector of old maps it seemed, for this too, was quite yellowed and faded with age. Perhaps they should be framed behind glass to preserve their condition like the maps she had seen at the British Museum she thought. Then something about them caught her eye. She noted that the topographical map indicated a network of tunnels that led from the coast to one or two central areas inland. When she checked the map of the Grange lands she could see that one of those central points was beneath the main house.

"That bookshelf must open," she said out loud, turning around to face the wall of books again. Instead of rushing over she leaned back against the table to look at the whole wall. There was something that she was missing. Her fingers played on the patterns of carved wood roses that edged the map table as she perused the walls and quite by chance she felt a small round knob in the centre of the pattern that suddenly depressed under her fingers. As it did she glanced down at her hand. Turning she squatted down to look at the circle more closely. Touching it again, she pressed harder until it disappeared into the recesses of the wood and a secret drawer on the table popped open. Turning to face the shelves again she noted the ornate carving on either side of the bookshelves that matched the table. Finally she saw what she was looking for and crossed to the panel that ran from floor to ceiling on the side of the shelves. As she concentrated on the pattern she located the same configuration of carving and depressed the round knob as before. Behind her she heard the sound of a latch releasing. Standing and turning at the same time she saw that a section of the shelf had shifted ever so slightly out from the wall. She rushed over and pulled it further. Expecting it to be quite heavy, she was surprised when it moved with ease and she stepped back to allow it to open completely, revealing a small room.

Ana took a candle from the mantle and walked inside. There was a small assortment of comfortable furniture in what appeared to be an anteroom, enough for a few people to sit at the table and meet under the candelabra that hung from the centre of the ceiling. On the opposite side of the room was another door. She hurried over and opened it, feeling a rush of cold air flow around her as she did so. Stairs descended down into the darkness. She made her way down to the bottom taking care to shield her candle from the cool breeze. At the bottom of the stairs was the start of what she assumed to be the tunnels with several options running in different directions away from the house. Ana heard an echo of footsteps down one of the tunnels to her left and stepped back toward the stairs. There were men's voices that may have been distant but the tunnels were carrying the noise in ways that had her frightened. Unsure how close they really were she retreated to the stairs. If these were the tunnels on the map, then almost anyone who knew about them could be using them. She rushed back up the stairs as quietly as she could and secured the locks on the doors when she got to the top. Moving back through the room she emerged out into the light of the library and shifted the bookcase back into place with a click.

The rest of her afternoon was spent in studying the maps in detail. If her information from Madame Fleur was correct, then she surmised that the eastern most of the tunnels would be the fastest option for her as it was the most direct route to the sea. However the northern tunnel, while longer, would take her closer to the sheltered bays where she supposed a ship might easily be hidden. As she had worked she decided she would arrange for supper in her room and retire early, claiming fatigue from her recent illness. When she was sure she had committed the routes to memory she stored the maps again and went to find Mrs. Jones.

After the household had settled into stillness Ana furtively made her way down the back stairs to the library. She had located a small hurricane candle for her purposes and had wrapped herself in a warm cloak. Her sturdy boots would allow her to walk a distance safely, especially if the ground became damp as she got closer to the sea. She had also located a small knife in Christian's room and strapped it on to the outside of her thigh using a garter. Second guessing her decision she had almost turned back to her room when she was struggling to find the right pattern configuration to release the bookshelf. However once the shelf popped open she found her feet moving of their own volition. Once inside the small anteroom she paused to go over her plan in her head. She wanted to go back to check the maps again just to be sure, but her worry that the tides would come into the tunnels urged her on.

In the gloom of the anteroom she saw something on the table. A sealed parchment was placed carefully under a paperweight. Ana chastised herself for not noticing if it had been on the table earlier in the day but she pulled it out to examine it anyway. It had one word written on it.

_Blackheart._


	11. Chapter 11

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Lady Caroline Steele sat in the front parlor, embroidering a cushion. Sir Raymond glanced about the room and wondered where on earth they would put yet another embellished frippery from his wife's hands. The chairs and window seats piled up with cushions would not have bothered him except that needlework was not exactly her strong suit and he often found himself stabbed by stray needles or covered in loose threads upon rising from his reading chair.

Folding his paper and placing it on his lap, Sir Raymond stared at his wife over the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. "Am I sure 'what' is a good idea, my dear?" He knew exactly what she was going to say. After all, it was all she had talked about for the past three weeks, hell, since before the wedding. He focused his gaze on her with the understanding that if he gave the conversation his full attention, Caroline would lose interest quicker and he would be free to get back to his papers.

"This wedding. I'm just not sure that Anastasia is ready for marriage. And to Lord Grey, of all people." Caroline teased out her thread and began a fruitless attempt to feed it through the eye of her needle.

"Not Lord Grey, my dear, but his brother, Captain Grey. And it is too late to worry about the rightness. The wedding has already taken place. Do you recall the ceremony at the Bellevue Manse? We had strawberries and cream on the lawn." Sir Raymond leaned forward and captured Caroline's eyes. His next statement was genuine and heart felt. "You looked lovely, my dear, as did Anastasia. She was a credit to you."

Tears glistened in Caroline's large blue eyes. "Oh, yes. She did look lovely, didn't she?" Sir Raymond nodded, took the needle from her and thread the cotton through the eye. It took him a few attempts, with his distinctly dodgy eyesight, but it was markedly faster than Caroline would have done it. She accepted the needle back and began to embroider a bright red leaf. Raymond sighed, shaking his head.

"Do you think she will be happy?" Caroline asked wistfully. Raymond frowned. He certainly hoped so.

* * *

><p>Christian watched as his crew hauled the last of the new sails onto the ship. He was barking orders, frustrated and anxious about Anastasia and what she might or might not choose to do next. He was feeling considerable anger at Sir Raymond Steele for his dubious advice on how best to 'handle' his new wife.<p>

Somehow, nothing had gone quite to plan. Sir Raymond, had waxed lyrical on Anastasia's compliance and subservience as he all but sold her potential as a wife. Luckily, Christian had already seen first hand how little those words fit Anastasia and if she had exhibited either of those qualities, he might have overlooked her more obvious charms. Sir Raymond had also explained Ana's resistance to marriage based on her fears that she would acquire her mother's, what did he call it? Dementia. For his part, Christian thought Lady Caroline was merely a tad eccentric but Sir Raymond had consulted a Harley St specialist who had confirmed that Lady Caroline was suffering from a mania.

Sir Raymond's advice to his new son-in-law had many elements and one single non-negotiable caveat. Christian recalled the conversation that had ensued after Elliot had outlined the plan for securing Ana's 'cooperation' in a marriage arrangement.

"I take it with all of this plotting and planning, that you won't be backing away from this plan of yours." Sir Raymond's shrewd eyes narrowed on Christian.

"I can assure you, Sir Raymond, my intentions are honorable and solid. Anastasia has quite captured my…" Christian had baulked at revealing his true feelings, but after a slight moment of hesitation decided it was best to reassure the man who would soon become his father-in-law. "…heart. I would not be investing any time in this conversation if I felt otherwise."

Sir Raymond allowed his inspection of Christian's face to continue unabated and saw the moment when he felt satisfied that the lad was genuine. "Aye, I believe you. However, I have one condition on which I would seek your agreement before I will commit to assisting you."

Christian had waited, not shifting his gaze. It was a stand off of course, and Sir Raymond would not be forthcoming on the condition until he had Christian's assent. Turning over all of the possibilities in his mind, money, sponsorship, naming of their first born, he decided that whatever Sir Raymond had to ask was worth it to have Anastasia as his bride. He nodded at the older man.

Sir Raymond's eyes widened a fraction and then he continued, "Of the utmost importance, you must abstain from consummating the marriage for at least 3 months."

Elliot had coughed at that point. "Steady on, old boy, I mean a fellow can't possibly…" Christian raised his hand to silence his brother.

"I am a man of honour and I have already agreed to Sir Raymond's terms." Elliot's eyes looked ready to jump out of his skull, about the same time as his tongue would hit the floor. Christian reached over and tupped his brother's chin with a wry smile, hoping that Elliot hadn't lost some badly needed brain function in the process. Turning back to Sir Raymond, he became more serious. "While I accept your terms, unreservedly, I would ask for some explanation of why."

"Anastasia has some 'interesting' ideas about her mother's illness. One of the many disadvantages of an inquisitive and educated female, I suppose. When her mother's eccentricities caused some social issues, we had to retire to the country indefinitely. It was for the best, is still for the best. However, she took it upon herself to start studying medical papers. I don't hold much with the medical profession, quacks and charlatans the lot of them, however, I didn't discourage Anastasia as it seemed to give her some comfort. It was about then that she started to develop her ideas about marriage. I have to admit, I was so dismayed at Caroline's condition that I wasn't quite as attentive to Anastasia as I perhaps could have been, but that being said, Anastasia was adamant that she would remain unmarried and she largely managed to convince me. It was only after she took up employment with Lady Katherine that I took up studying where Ana had left off. I'm afraid there are some very odd ideas in those papers that unfortunately I cannot discuss with my daughter. It wouldn't be appropriate. However, if she is anything like her mother, then her husband, an understanding and patient husband, might be of more influence."

Christian was flummoxed. He had no idea what the man was talking about and a quick glance at Elliot indicated that his brother, too, was at a loss. "I see, so you think that abstinence will be helpful?" Christian and Elliot simultaneously frowned.

"It is not about the abstinence per se, but about building up a trust. And knowledge. I will happily give you these papers so that you can understand what I am talking about. I think once you see what they contain, you might be able to disseminate the fears and reservations that my daughter has about 'marriage'. This role should have fallen to her mother, but unfortunately, Lady Caroline…" His voice tapered off, wistfully.

"I understand." Christian felt that he didn't quite understand the half of it, but he could see that whatever 'it' was, Sir Raymond was convinced that it needed to be said. Convinced enough that he felt it necessary to have a conversation regarding a topic that perhaps no father-in-law would ever want to have with his son-in-law. Especially as it related to his little girl. Christian would obviously have to sort through the muddle as best he could. He had thought to ask his step-mother for some guidance and then thought better of it. Instinctively he knew this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with the Duchess either.

So Christian had tried to honour their agreement, as much as it pained him, both physically and emotionally. He found the best approach was to absent himself from her presence as much as possible. He found that difficult, too. He had collected the papers from his father-in-law and resolved to study them, shocked and a little angered by what he found there. Sir Raymond had been correct in asking for his cooperation in this one thing. He needed to give her time so that Anastasia would not feel threatened as she settled into married life. Only the more time he spent with Anastasia the harder it was becoming for both of them, until finally she had broken him with her pleas. After last night, as his young wife had blossomed under his touch,Christian had doubted the wisdom of his father-in-law's edict. He also doubted the possibility of retaining his manhood if Sir Raymond found out that he had broken his promise less than three weeks into the marriage but that was a risk he was now only too willing to take. Repeatedly, if Ana would permit.

When Ana had collapsed in the library, his heart had been in his throat. He couldn't get to her fast enough and he had been tormented by the thought that perhaps he had caused her to fail. When young Nicholas had started to cry in the library he had been torn. Luckily, Taylor has been right behind him and ushered the boy away, quickly. Christian had taken some time while the doctor visited and administered feverfew to go to the lad and reassure him that none of this had been his fault. At least he could promise the boy that his mother would visit while he was away. Nicholas had brightened considerably after their discussion, even as he clung to Christian in an effort to prevent him from leaving. The tickling fight that had ensued had left them both breathless and Mrs Jones grumbling at Christian's timing in riling the lad up before bed time.

When he had returned to Ana he had become instantly sombre, so concerned that she would not make a recovery. The doctor had been very reassuring and had left him with instructions that at least made him feel vaguely useful as she rode out the storm of her headache. His relief when she woke had been palpable but it was what ensued that had him by turns grinning like a fool and ranting like a madman. His sexual experience, though varied and long, did not extend to a woman who was so generous with her pleas to be touched, to be pleasured. His wife had delighted him with her need and responsiveness. Just the thought of her pulsing around his fingers while simultaneously begging for more had him in a state of physical torment, aching to see her beneath him, above him, however she wanted to find her release. The sooner she got here the better. Once he had her on the ship, he would encourage her to let go of all of her inhibitions. He simply wanted to see her fly apart again.

However, the wait now for her to arrive had him raging like a chained bear, barking orders at everyone around him and genuinely making a nuisance of himself. In the end, Taylor had taken it upon himself to send Christian back up the tunnels to check the oil in the sconces leading up to the house. He arrived in the anteroom just in time to spy Ana examining the maps in the library. After she had departed, he placed the note that he had prepared on the table, leaving nothing to chance. Of course, there was every possibility that she would not try to find Blackheart or his ship but he had seen the light in her eye when she talked about finding him and recalled her determination on board the Ruby Queen. She would seek Blackheart out because she needed to know that she had made every attempt to find Ethan. He also knew that Ana needed to arrive at this decision and plan her next moves herself. To that end, he had carefully laid out as much information as he dared to ensure that she succeeded. If nothing else, it might prove to her that she was a long way off submitting to her mother's disease.

* * *

><p>With a shaking hand, Ana lifted the parchment and broke the seal. If someone from the house was leaving a message for the pirate then Ana felt it was better to be forewarned.<p>

_I heard you were looking for me. Take the north tunnel. B_

She let out a gasp and dropped the paper to the table. Was the message for her or for Christian? He obviously knew that they were looking for him, which proved that Christian had been true to his word and tried to contact, was still trying, to contact him on her behalf. Quickly looking around, she saw that locks were indeed open on the door to the anteroom. Her blood ran cold. Someone, perhaps Blackheart himself, had been here since she had left this afternoon and opened that door.

Once more, Ana found herself tempted to run from the room and back to the safety of her bed. What business did she have engaging the services of a criminal? Two days ago, she might have done exactly that. Now she needed Blackheart's assistance in a way that she simply hadn't before. When she had first asked Christian to contact Blackheart on Kate's behalf it had been about rescuing Ethan. A straightforward request that he might take the information that Kate had been given and use it to the advantage of a successful extraction. Now, it was possible that her request might actually save her husband's life. For that reason alone, she had to try.

When she had awoken to Christian nursing her in her illness, she had been both surprised and deeply touched at the tender care he administered. However, her intense headaches often resulted in an even more intense and uncontrollable aftermath that left her restless and ashamed. As that familiar burning sensation had settled between her legs, she had expected it even as she feared it but Christian had had no idea what was happening. The memory of his response to her need, a response that manifested in the light of desire, had brought the one thing to her condition that she never thought to know. Emotional connection. Ever since the first onset of the symptoms as a young girl, she had been ashamed of her own bodily urges, afraid of what they made her do. Christian's presence, the sweet temptation of his touch, had driven her to request the one thing for which she held true dread, and instead of shunning her or taking advantage, he had been so very gentle. Deep to her core, Ana knew that he would never have taken her if she hadn't begged him. Her fear had seen her attempt to push him aside. Wiping the tear that sneaked into the corner of her eye she vowed not to make that mistake again.

Pushing terror aside, Ana tried not to think about the risks inherent in talking with pirates on dark, moonlit nights without the benefit of either escort or guard. After all, if someone had come up from the tunnels and opened the doors to the anteroom, then she was hardly safe in her own home. As much as she knew her feelings were growing, she cursed Christian. He must know how insecure the property was against the smugglers and pirates who might use the tunnels. She vowed to have words with him if she, and he, ever got back in one piece. She would have to alert the other property owners in the district too. That map had shown at least three other major estates where the tunnels met. Their houses were probably not safe either. Of course, the thought of having those nasty shrews from Faversham challenged by a pirate in their beds appealed to her sense of the absurd.

Ana placed the paper back under the paperweight and moved to the door. Sucking a deep breath she looked at the stairs, it was now or never. She quickly descended the staircase into the catacombs and tried to tamp down her panic as she deduced which tunnel ran to the north. Running through her memory the north tunnel on the map she had studied, she recalled that it wound some distance around the property before heading out to a point slightly south of the one she had originally chosen. She had eliminated it as a choice, not because she thought it would go to the wrong place, but because it would take her longer to navigate. However, if that was her instruction, she would take it. She really had no other choice. It had the advantage that no other tunnels crossed it in the process, which she supposed, should make it safer. That didn't prevent an ominous shiver from running down her spine. She took another deep breath and proceeded forward.

Half an hour of winding her way in the darkness, Ana was wondering if she would ever find a way out. Several times she had to keep herself from turning back out of fear. Keeping one hand on the wall as she went, she guarded her hurricane candle close to her body against the breezes that threatened to eliminate what little light she had. She only hoped that there would be enough light left on it to get her back home after she had spoken to Captain Blackheart. Her hand went to the locket under her cloak and Ana sent out a silent prayer that she would find him. If something happened to Christian because of her silence, she would never be able to forgive herself.

The smell of the sea air became stronger as she got closer to the coast, giving her hope that she was on the right track. As she arrived at the mouth of a cave, she noted that it was quite sheltered and well lit by the moon, making it easy to make her way down the few rocks to the sand. When she emerged onto the sand, she almost turned the wrong way in the dark before she recalled where the tunnel opening appeared on the map. She had only gone a few paces before she noticed a group of shadows moving further down the beach. Surmising that they must be Blackheart's crew, she furtively crept toward the group, trying not to make any sudden moves or noises. The last thing she wanted to do was alert them to her presence if they were not who she was looking for. Not for the first time tonight, she berated herself for not simply handing her information to Christian and letting him do with it what he would. For a start, she would never have found the maps nor the secret tunnels that allowed strangers to wander willy nilly under her house. She shuddered, telling herself to push on.

Before she could get close enough to call out, a pair of arms came out of the darkness, wrapping around her and dragging her back up the beach. A giant hand was firmly placed over her mouth, effectively stopping her screams. She could taste the terror on her tongue as she fought down her panic. What had she been thinking? And what made her think she could trust a pirate more than her own husband? The thought of Christian brought tears to her eyes. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

"Be quiet. Those are excise men. We don't need them to find us." The voice, low and menacing, sent chills down her spine. They had stilled enough for her to nod her head in agreement. "Now, I'm going to release you, and you're not going to make a sound. Do you understand?" With tears threatening, she nodded.

He slowly removed his hand from her mouth, even though he kept a firm grip on her person. Immediately, she sucked in a lungful of air. His breath was still on her neck as his strong arm kept her pressed back against his body. "Good girl. Now, what is a fine young thing like you doing walking the coast at night? Don't you know these parts are full of smugglers and pirates?"

He allowed her just enough movement to see his face over her shoulder. The glint of teeth as he smiled at her didn't calm her nerves. "I-I-I'm looking for Captain Blackheart. I heard he might be nearby and I would have business with him."

Expecting this bandit to help her, suddenly seemed like the most stupid decision she had ever made. He let go of her and began circling her in the dark, with the stealth of a large animal stalking its prey. Ana tried to calm her shaking body and quietly crossed herself as he continued to walk around her in the dark. The moon had chosen this moment to be uncooperative and Ana was completely out of her depth, struggling to see him in the dark, even though he appeared to be able to see her quite clearly. His hand snaked out and grasped her chin, his touch gentle but firm. He may have been looking into her eyes but she couldn't tell.

"Business, is it? What business would a pretty little thing like you have with pirates?" She noted the barest trace of a French accent. Her trembling began in earnest. She had to leave.

"That is for me to know. Can you help me or not? If not, I shall be on my way." Gathering up her skirt she pushed past him and started to walk away. His hand shot and grasped her elbow, stopping her.

"Hold your horses, little one. What will you give me if I help you?" Ana could kick herself for not bringing more money. She had some coins but those were for the Captain. She hadn't anticipated being waylaid by a bandit. Dear Lord, why hadn't she taken more care?

"You would take coin from Blackheart's pocket? You are either brave or stupid, Sir." So it would seem, was she. Standing as straight as possible, there was a moment where she thought she had overplayed her bravado, then the man laughed.

"Come, I can take you out to his ship." He grabbed her hand but she didn't move for a moment. He didn't tug, he merely leaned toward her with a low whisper. "I promise. You have my word as a… pirate."

The bandit started to move but Ana leaned back a few steps, resisting him. He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. She wanted to pull away in disgust but the warmth of his hand gave her some strange sense of security. Then she heard the men behind them approaching. They ran up the beach away from the excise men until they reached a small boat. Strong hands lifted her in before he pushed the boat out on the tide and clambered in after her. Within a few minutes he had rowed them around the bend of a rocky outcrop. Ana panicked. They appeared to be traveling back inland instead of out to the ocean as she expected. The night became darker around them, a shroud that stopped her from seeing anything that might mark where they were. Her hands gripped the sides of the boat as she considered throwing herself over the side and swimming to shore. Meanwhile, her captor was concentrating all his energy on keeping them moving further into the dark inlet. Just as she was summoning her energy to jump, the clouds parted above them, uncovering a purple moon and there hidden, in a secret cove was a ship. Ana had no idea how it could not be seen from the beach but it was obviously the perfect hiding place. She grinned at him in relief.

Her guide rowed alongside the ship, that sat low and steady in the water and tied off the rowboat before whistling up to the deck. Without ceremony a rope was dropped down. She had no idea how she was supposed to climb it but she moved toward his hand outstretched hand. Reaching down, he placed her foot in a loop, his own boot next to it and then pulled the rope firmly around both their feet. Wrapping his strong arm around her, he pulled her close and gripped the rope with one hand then gave another signal to the unseen bodies above.

"Keep your arms firmly wrapped around me and let your foot stand on mine," he whispered in the dark. They began to rise steadily and the momentum caused her to wrap her arms around his thick neck. She inhaled sandalwood and salt. Hope and longing mixed in her heart.

"Are you alright?" She nodded into his shoulder, too afraid to look. He chuckled and it reminded her of Christian. She missed him terribly and wished now that she had just trusted him with the note.

Landing on the deck with a flourish, a bustle of activity happened around her as she was released from the rope and his arms. Once she was steady on her feet, he took her hand again and all but dragged her toward the the bridge. Suffering from a sense of deja vu, this time she went willingly for there was no real choice, after all. She determined that she had come this far and she needed to follow through with her plan. She just hoped that she hadn't cost Ethan or Christian their lives, or her own.

The pirate took her through doors below the bridge and down the stairs. As they moved through the gangway she felt that same sensation of having been somewhere like this before. Her nerves on that day seemed so unfounded now. Christian was intimidating and forceful but he didn't frighten her. Unfortunately, she now understood that she had gained her confidence regarding Blackheart based on a performance by her husband. A pretense shrouded in desire. What a fool she had been then and what an even bigger fool she felt now.

The doors shut behind them as they entered what was obviously the Captain's cabin. This was nothing like Christian's cabin though. Light softly filtered from sconces fixed about the walls. Ana spun around as she took in the exotic fabrics on the bed and the detailed paintings of people on the walls. All manner of ephemera was secured in a large glass case, items that were obviously the spoils of ships taken and lands visited. Some of which looked exotic and sinister. There was a desk with large cast iron rings in each corner. It was ornately carved with figures similar to those on the walls on its sides. A giant cross was attached to one wall, giving Ana hope that the Captain was a religious man, however, on closer inspection it had cast iron attachments that looked like prison manacles attached to it. Ana walked to the walls to inspect the paintings closer, her eyes widening in shock when she realised that the figures were, in fact, naked men and women in all manner of sensual positions. Her body began to shake and she spun back to the door wanting to run. Her escort was standing in front of it blocking the way with a smirk on his face. Now that they were in candlelight she could take him in. He stood with his arms folded swathed head to toe in black. He wore a mask that covered his hair and his face was unshaven. His eyes had been outlined in kohl giving him a sinister air. Ana was fighting not to fall on the floor. She sucked in breaths when she noticed a rack to his right, with whips and canes. She started to back away from him.

The man came toward her, slowly forcing Ana to stumble backward onto the bed behind her. His smile broadened and she scrambled backward on the bed pulling the covers up over her for protection. It didn't stop him from crawling on the bed after her.

"Y-y-you're Captain Blackheart?" Heart hammering in her throat, Ana could only stammer her question out in a faint and breathless voice.

"Blackheart by name, and nature. Now." He tipped her chin up toward him as he bent his head to touch his lips to hers. Ana pushed his body hard, causing him to roll to the side and she scampered off the bed and into the corner of the room. He was on his feet in an instant, prowling around the bed. Her eyes darted to the door, judging if she could make a run for it. He crouched over, widening his stance, his arms outstretched to the sides. Ana ran forward but he grabbed her around the waist and swung her around, kicking and screaming. She scratched at his fingers but they were a vice around her. Eventually he pinned her against the cross with his body, holding her hands up against the wall.

She expected him to restrain her with the cuffs but he stayed where he was, his body hard against hers. Her body liked the sensation while her mind railed against him. She was, however, going nowhere. She struggled in his grip, trying desperately to pull her hands free of the vice-like grip he had on her wrists. His legs were firmly between hers, effectively pinning her hips back against the wall. She bucked but could not move him in any way and her fear began in earnest. A whimpering sound filtered into her ears and it took her a moment a to realize that this was the sound of her own terror.

"Stop fighting, petit chat," he growled. Lifting one hand he found the edge of the hood of her cloak and pushed it back off her head, stroking her hair as he did so. She closed her eyes and forced herself to be still under his perusal, not wanting to anger him. To her surprise, he stepped back from her without releasing her hands, and bowed, "I hear you've been looking for me, Mrs Grey."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you all again for your kind words and enthusiastic comments and questions. This chapter was written as one but has now been split into two to accommodate some of the issues that you presented me with, including dealing with some of the blank spots that you were wondering about. This might seem like I am pandering to the audience instead of writing the story that I want to write but I can assure you, that your need to have gaps filled has actually made this chapter better. So I thank you all for that. Guest reviewer, I left a message for you on my facebook page. I wanted to know, genuinely, what you meant by lack of authenticity and odd world. If you sign into fan fiction we can have a private conversation about it but as a guest reviewer I have no other way to contact you except through this public forum. If this is just about you not being able to connect with the historical genre then that is fine. If you have some comments that could genuinely improve my writing I would like to know. Thanks again, everyone. Hope you all have an enjoyable weekend and please continue to review. Sasha xxx**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you all for your lovely messages and reviews. A big thank you for everyone who joined in the discussions on facebook. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing your thoughts and avoiding your questions. ;) I have to thank my lovely team again, Ariadne, Vanessa and Barbara who support and advise me so well (please forgive any errors as I have a tendency to add more stuff after they have already proofread - it's a bad habit, I know), and a big shout out this week to Sabine for leading such a rich and entertaining discussion in the fanfic fb group. I know that you will be disappointed that the topic of 'the boy' won't be addressed in this chapter but the story must reveal itself at the right time. And if you feel cheated in the seduction of Ana by Blackheart, I promised myself (and several readers) that this would not be a cheating story, not even with Blackheart. Hopefully you like the twists here. Please continue to review - you might think that you are saying or asking something fairly innocuous but I can promise you that the little things are the ones that cause sparks of giant ideas. Love you all, Sasha xxx**

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><p>Ana's eyes flickered open and fixed on his.<p>

"You know who I am?" Of course he did. He had left the note on the table for her hadn't he? Another shudder ran through her at the thought that he was able to gain such easy access to her house, her haven, her safety. She would never feel safe again. Something of her distaste must have shown on her face for he stepped into her body again effectively pinning her in place.

"When a beautiful woman starts asking around London after me, Viscountess, I make it my business to know." A slow lazy smile spread across his face as he curled a strand of hair around his finger and leaned down to sniff it. It was an incredibly sensual movement and Ana felt incredibly guilty just for thinking that. Her lips that until that point had been on the verge of a wanton drool snapped into a grim line.

"I am not a beautiful woman Captain Blackheart. I am a married woman. A _happily_ married woman and I have business to negotiate with you."

Blackheart raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Happily married?" He pressed his pelvis against hers in a slow grind. Ana's body responded in the most visceral way and her face flamed with shame at its betrayal. Blackheart simply studied her at close range with a twinkle in his eye. "Then tell me Mrs. Grey, why are you coming to a pirate for help?" A good question. It wasn't the first time tonight that she had asked herself that question.

"This mission is dangerous. I will not put my husband's life at risk. Not for any reason." Only she had put his life at risk. She was torn between throwing herself on Blackheart's mercy or keeping that information to herself and praying that in this life or the next Christian might forgive her. For now she needed to act like her words were true. It might be the only way she could live with the outcome of tonight.

"Yet you would risk your own. How do you think your husband would feel about that?" How would Christian feel? Blackheart leaned in and sniffed along her jaw-line. Her body responded again to the sensual move and she was tempted to lift her knee into his groin, only he seemed to have preempted that move and widened his legs to spread her own even further apart. She catalogued his various moves in her head and made a decision that offense was her best defense.

Selecting what she felt was her only option Ana placed her lips against his ears and felt the shiver in his body as she talked. "My husband… Captain Grey…Viscount Trevelyan… would not. Like. This. I think he would kill you for touching what is his." She paused for effect, allowing him to feel the smile that played across her lips. "That's if I don't kill you first."

There was a sharp intake of breath at her lips on his ear before he chuckled. She breathed deeply as the Captain stepped away, releasing her suddenly. Ana eased away from the wall and slid into the centre of the room rubbing her wrists and wondering if she could now make a run for it. When she glanced at the door he stepped back further to wave her through.

"Be my guest, Viscountess. The door is locked of course. You can't go anywhere." She tried to keep her eye on him as he cut in behind her. A shiver followed his fingers as he lightly ran them from her shoulders down to her wrists before capturing them in his hands. Leaning in he whispered against her neck:

"If I were your husband I would tie you up and spank your bottom for daring to put yourself in danger."

Breathing in sharply she spoke before she could censure her own words: "If you were my husband I would let you. Am I in trouble Captain Blackheart?"

"So much trouble, Anastasia." The way he said her name reminded her of Christian. She whimpered as his lips touched her neck. Her traitorous body was responding yet again to his touch but her heart only wanted her husband. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Please don't do that, Sir." The plea was a whimper.

"Why not?" She heard the threat behind the question and swallowed down a sob.

"I love my husband." His lips paused and she felt him smile.

"If you loved him you would not be here."

"It's because I love him that I am here." Ana cried in earnest now. "I just wish he knew that."

"I think he knows Anastasia."

Just then a whistle came from above. "I have to apologize, Mrs. Grey, but I need to go on deck. I can't leave you here unattended. He unbuttoned her cloak and let it drop to the floor. Then taking her hands again he moved her to the side of the bed. "Strip."

Ana gasped, "What?"

"You heard me. Take that dress off, quickly."

"But why?"

"I can't risk you escaping and going to the authorities. I am trusting your sense of propriety and a strong rope. Now here let me assist." He stepped quickly behind her and ripped her dress off leaving it in pieces on the ground. Ana sobbed as it fell off of her. Next her outer petticoat went the same way. Tears of humiliation rolled down her face as she trembled in her short stays and petticoat. He took her right hand and wrapped a rope around it before attaching her to the bed post. The knots he tied were deft and quick and she could tell, immovable. He glanced at her lower leg peeking out from under the thin muslin and then tossed a blanket over her. "You should be comfortable for a little while. I will return when I can and then we can discuss your business Mrs. Grey." Before he left, he fingered her locket.

Outside the room Christian found the cabin boy. "Stand guard. If she tries to escape you must alert me. Don't try to stop her. She bites." He watched the boy's eyes widen as his grubby face peered up at him. Then he nodded and positioned himself in a regimental fashion to the side of the door.

Ana sank down on the bed and tried not to cry. She had no idea what was taking the Captain's attention but all she wanted to do was to secure his services and get off this damn ship. She ached for Christian and felt so ashamed of her stupidity. He had taken such care with her from the time that they had first met. She could see that all of his actions, ill-advised or not, were about protecting her. Even at the height of their passion he supported her and let her fly. Now she was more terrified than ever that she would never be able to tell him of her love.

A sudden movement swayed the boat and set her heart pounding. This was closely followed by the clanging metallic sounds of the anchor being raised. "Oh God. No! Please." The overwhelming feeling of helplessness threatened to undo her. Pulling at the ropes she knew there was no way to disconnect herself from the wall. The rope was solid around her wrist. With her free hand she pulled the stiletto from her garter, which had been high enough up her thigh for him not to notice it under her short petticoat and began to sever the binding at her wrist. Although the rope was thick she continued to work for a few minutes until the rope finally fell apart, releasing her.

Checking the floor was pointless. He had ripped her dress so aggressively that it had been rendered in two. He had removed the cloak so there was nothing that she could wear to escape. Even if she didn't care about being seen in her under garments, which she did, the bright white fabric would easily be visible in the moonlight. Blackheart wore nothing but black clothes; he might have what she required. She ran to the armoire and threw open the doors hoping to find something with which to cover herself.

What she saw in there caused her to step away and gasp. Three of her favorite dresses were hanging in the closet. Alongside them was a man's jacket that she had often seen on her husband. Her hand reached out to stroke the fabric with disbelief. "Christian?" Backing away with a frown, she bit her fingernails in consternation before plucking up the courage to approach again and touch the clothes. Yes. Yes, she knew them all. Whirling around she allowed her eyes to fly about the space taking in all of the details. There! She walked to a tall wooden chest to the left and found other pieces that she recognized; his comb, his ring, a tie pin. Beside the chest was his cloak hanging on a hook with his cane propped in a stand that was secured to the floor. She picked up the hem of the cloak and breathed in the scent. Sandalwood and leather. Slowly she took the cloak in her hands and held it to her breast as she went back to the edge of the bed and sank down.

There was no other explanation. Christian, her Christian, was Blackheart. Her surprise gave way to relief and then anger. How dare he? Ana almost tore the cloak apart in frustration as she stamped her booted foot on the ground. Standing up she threw the cloak down on the bed and began pacing back and forth in front of the bed, marching out the beat of her temper as she worried her fingertips with her mouth once again. How dare he deceive her like this? He had planned this deception from the beginning. He must have left maps where she would find them, and the letter! Oh! He left the letter. And she had been terrified about strangers being her house. The cheek of the man! She turned and started marching around the perimeter of the room her fingers clenched into tight, angry fists. He had been waiting on the beach for her. He had orchestrated this from the start. A strategist he had said. She had married a master strategist and once more she had been his willing victim falling in with his plans all too easily. It was like the horror and realization of his manipulations the night of the ball all over again. How dare he? He knew how she felt about being trapped and he had chosen to manipulate her yet again!

Stopping at the middle of a wall, she smacked her hand hard against the wooden panel flinching only a fraction as the jarring pain sparked up her arm and the picture frames that lined it jumped out. He was arrogant and pigheaded and… and… and… her heart still wanted him. But he would pay for this. Oh yes, he would pay. Why could he not have just offered his assistance and stopped this ruse? Did he think that she would not tell him what she knew? Only, when she stopped to think that particular thought, she knew she wouldn't have. She hadn't offered the information when she had the opportunity out of stupidity and pride. And he knew that, too, because he knew she hadn't trusted him. In fairness, she hadn't known how to. After all, he'd been distant since their marriage, his emotional temperature running hot and cold. She hardly knew him which was fairly obvious since she had just found out her husband was a notorious pirate!

Trying to run was out of the question. There was no point. She was safe wasn't she, if Christian were indeed Captain Blackheart? She had no need to risk her life by trying to leave. And if he had a plan, then perhaps she owed it to him to let it play out. There was a possibility that in doing so she would prove to both him and herself that she could trust him. She had already admitted to herself that she loved him. Was trust, complete trust, so hard to imagine? She could berate him when he walked through that door, attack him for his deception. That would be satisfying but it would not prove anything. Allowing him to take control of this situation through whatever plan he had formulated, surely that would demonstrate to her, and to him, that she could truly trust this husband of hers. And maybe, just maybe, that would change everything.

Glancing around the room she tried to take in the surroundings again but this time using her husband as her lens. This was his room, as much as the beautifully decorated bedroom at the house, as much as the sparse cabin on the Ruby Queen. This room would reveal more to her about this side of her husband that she did not know. Walking over to the cross, she examined the manacles. The wood was highly polished and she noted the smooth patina as she ran her hand over it. He took care fo this piece of equipment, but what was it for, besides securing prisoners? Surely, he would have a cell of some sort, below decks. Why have this in a captain's cabin?

Turning away she walked back to the wall and started to examine the series of miniature pictures that hung on the wall. They were framed copper plate engravings which looked pleasing at a distance but when Ana moved closer her mouth dropped open. Good heavens! The figures, carefully embossed in exquisitely fine detail, were couples engaged in all manner of sexual activity. On one, the woman lay back her legs spread wide, while the man's face was pressed into her private parts. Another showed a woman on her hands and knees, while the man pressed his erection into her from behind. The next showed the woman straddling the man as he sat cross legged on the floor, a clear connection between her vagina and his penis. And yet, another, showed the woman kneeling on the floor in front of the man with his penis in her mouth.

Covering her own mouth Ana was quite certain that she must be blushing from head to toe. She knew she shouldn't but she found herself moving from one image to the next, turning her head this way and that, as she studied the images. Frowning at one point, she wondered if what was represented was even possible, and her body warmed at the thought. Did Christian like this? Did he want this from his sexual partners? Did he want this from her? Heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs and her belly tingled with anticipation. Breathing rapidly she closed her eyes for a moment and imagined, allowing her hands to brush over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. A noise outside the door, someone coughing, had her stepping away from the wall of images quickly.

She returned to the bed and sat on the edge trying to process everything. Her husband had tricked her into coming aboard the ship. The same husband who was an honored sea Captain in His Majesty's navy, was also, apparently, a notorious pirate. A notorious pirate who, it seemed, might to use her body in ways that might reflect those images on the wall. And as much as the thought terrified her, it enticed her as well.

Ana was horrified at her reaction. She who had eschewed all thoughts of sexual engagement should be appalled at her own curiosity, but she was finding it impossible. She wanted to know. She wanted to experience what she saw in the pictures. And she wanted to experience it with Christian. Could he allow her that? Would he be disgusted at her desire for the experience? Ever since her mother had started to get sick she had been terrified of her own passions and urges. She had read so much of the latest medical thinking about her mother's condition and she knew about hysteria. But then her mother had started to lose her memories a little more every day, and they had had to hide her away in the country to stop the doctors from admitting her into an asylum. One of the papers Ana had read had expressed a link between hysteria, sexuality and the mania that described her mother's symptoms. Ana had been terrified ever since, determined that she would never marry. Now she was married, she loved her husband, desired him to touch her. She glanced toward the images, wanting Christian to do some of those things to her and she was terrified, not of him, but of herself.

Picking up Christian's cloak she held it to her face and inhaled. A feeling of safety descended upon her. She hugged the cloth close to her body allowing its warmth to calm and comfort her. Could she move past her fears of intimacy? It was too late to annul their marriage and now that she had acknowledged her feelings she wasn't sure that she could. And she wanted him to touch her, craved his touch. Charisma and sensuality flooded from his fingers to her skin every time he came close to her. Even when she had thought he was Blackheart she had been sorely tempted by him. Touching her jaw, she recalled his whispered words, so close to her she could feel his hot breath. His body, pressed hard against hers, igniting fire in her core. She hadn't given in to that desire but she had been sorely tempted. That temptation had revolted her to the point where she had even considered fighting back to preserve what she had with Christian.

Ana dropped her hands to her lap and stared at the pictures again. She hadn't given in to her urges. She had wanted to fight for her love. Maybe, just maybe she was stronger than her mother. Oh, God, it was such a risk. Allowing him, nay, encouraging him to touch her like that. Or for her to touch him. Remembering him lying shirtless on the bed, she pictured her mouth on him, kissing his chest, his stomach. Licking his… oh! The heated flush caused her to wipe her forehead. If Christian knew what she was like, what she was really like, would he stay with her? At least the leaving would be his choice because knowing what she felt now, about him, she knew she could never be the one to walk away. But if he liked those images, then maybe, just maybe he would allow, or God forbid, even enjoy her passions.

Ana gulped in air steadily as her thoughts raced. She had no idea how she would do it, but she would have to find the right moment, if it presented itself, to make her intentions known. Fanning her face with her hand, Ana squeezed her thighs together, trying not to squirm. Her breathing became labored and she was torn between lust and terror. The panic that was threatening to overtake her was quashed at the sound of footsteps galvanizing her into action. As they neared she ran across the room and replaced the cloak on the hook. Returning hastily to the bed she wrapped the remaining rope around her wrist and sat huddled on the bed pulling the covers over her half naked body. Turning her face into the pillow she waited to see what might happen next. The doors opened and then closed. Boots sounded on the floor slowly, steadily approaching her.

"Mrs. Grey, are you well?" Ana looked up at him slowly. The concern was genuine and very, very dear. She schooled her features and nodded her head before turning her face away again.

Christian's years of service had honed his instincts and he knew something had changed the moment he walked back into the cabin. At first, he had looked at her lying still with her eyes closed and had become concerned that these adventures might have caused her headache to return. On closer examination, he saw her features showed no distress. No pain, no fear, no anger. No, she was too calm by far. Anastasia, his Anastasia, was a spitfire when trapped. She should have tried to escape. That was why he had stationed a man outside the door. Only here she was sitting meekly as if awaiting his next desire. No. Something was definitely awry.

"You aren't going to let me go are you?" She tried to put a quiver in her voice. The fear wasn't quite reaching her eyes so Christian surmised that this too was his little wife misdirecting and misleading. He had to admire her plan whatever it was: "Eventually, if you behave yourself. Then I will return you to the husband you love so much." Her eyes shot to his. That was better, more in line with the reaction he expected. He was laughing at her and she wanted to kill him. He supposed he deserved that and he might have to be on his guard in case she attempted just that very thing.

"Please don't make fun of me. I am a new bride and inexperienced at being a good wife. I have so much to learn. But I love my husband. I truly do."

Christian had to turn his back on her and walk to the desk. Her continued declarations of love made his heart leap and there were two problems with that. She might just be acting, giving the performance of her life in order to save herself; but the more she declared it the more he found himself, wanting to believe her, fool that he was. Yes, this was very dangerous ground indeed. His beautiful wife had the power to crush him under her dainty foot and he had to be very careful that she never knew it. He ran his finger across the desk considering his next move.

"You said you had business to discuss, Mrs. Grey. I suggest we get to it. My interest in you and your husband is wearing a little thin." He loved hearing the declarations of love from her mouth but he was more than a little disappointed that they had never been said to him as her husband. He asked too much of her but it didn't change how he felt. That disappointment might be the very thing that saved him. It was best that he change the subject.

"I need to show you something but I need both my hands." He looked over his shoulder at her. God she was still tied to his bed and didn't that thought take his breath away. He tamped down that particular urge. If she was not likely to trust him as a husband and lover then tying her to his bedpost while he ravaged her was not going to advance his cause. Doing it as Captain Blackheart might be expected behavior for ladies who read far too many Gothic novels but it wasn't his style to do so without consent. And the thought of Ana consenting to being tied to his bed had him unable to stand. He sank to his chair hiding the evidence of his lustful thoughts behind the desk while he got himself in order.

"How can I trust you not to run away?" He leaned on the table and picked up an apple from the bowl. Slowly he began peeling it with his dagger. She should have been frightened by the move. Instead he had to reign himself in as her breath hitched and she licked her lips. She raised her eyes to his.

"Hasn't your ship set sail?" a defiant challenge behind her words.

"Yes, but you could still swim to shore." He sat back and propped his boots on the table placing one on top of the other. This time she bit her lip and he smiled. God he loved it when she did that. He had such an urge to bite her lip himself. Instead he sliced a piece of apple and popped it into his mouth.

"I don't swim." This surprised him enough to stop chewing. She seemed to do everything else with ease. Of course most young ladies of the ton didn't swim but as a young girl who was raised largely in the country he had expected she would have that skill.

Resuming chewing he quickly swallowed before asking, "Really?"

She didn't answer for a second then she dropped her eyes and shrugged. "Yes. I can swim. I apologize for my lie. You could tie my feet instead." Oh, God forbid. She was challenging him and he loved it. He smiled as he placed the barely eaten apple back in the bowl before licking the edge of the knife clean.

"You should be spanked for your lie Anastasia." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he should never have brought up spanking. The image of her bottom softly rounded and pink from his hand loomed large in his imagination and it took every ounce of control not to let that thought go straight to his cock.

"You keep saying that but only my husband will ever have that right." She sounded demure but her words went straight to his groin. She would consent to him spanking her? He resisted a groan.

Crossing the cabin he quickly cut the rope. Rubbing her wrist he checked to make sure that she was not too chafed by the fibers. Seeing nothing to cause concern he was about to raise her from the bed when he chanced a glance at the rope as it hit the floor. The minx had cut it and had been holding it secure in her hand. He smiled and walked her to the chair. She moved willingly, obviously deciding that cooperation would make her life easier.

"Smart girl."

"I beg your pardon?"

Saying nothing more, he sat her in the wooden chair then went to the wall to remove another skein of rope. Ana watched the dexterity of his fingers as he teased out the rope then bent to tie first one leg then the other to the wooden legs. The fastening was neither too loose nor too tight but she knew it was secure. He tested the knots then stood to face her. Sitting back on the table, he folded his arms.

"Now, what is it that you wanted to show me?"

Ana reached for the locket and removed it. Opening the clasp carefully, she removed a rolled parchment and spread it with her fingers.

"Six years ago Lord Ethan Kavanagh was working for the home office in London. He was sent on a mission to France to retrieve one of our most successful spies. All was going well and Lord Ethan was able to get his charge out of Paris. But on the road to Calais they were ambushed. They killed the agent and threw Ethan in a Paris jail. Several attempts to free him have met with failure and in the last three years no attempts have been made. Something in the home office seems to have changed and Ethan is no longer important to them. We know that because when the French authorities started a policy to rotate their foreign agent captures every few months the home office lost track of where he was being held. Lady Katherine has tried several times to get action but no one is willing to help. They simply don't know where he is and they don't care."

Christian listened to the 'official' version of Ethan's movements. This is what anyone making inquiries from the home office might have discovered. The reality was something a little different and although Christian did not know the whole of it, he did know that the decision not to pursue Ethan was a decision that was made to cover someone much higher up the chain. If he ever found out he would likely kill the culprit, but he was not ready yet to reveal what he knew to Ana, reasoning that at this stage it might be better that she didn't know the intrigues that went on within the hallowed halls of Whitechapel.

"I don't see how I can help." He had perched on the edge of the table and was gripping the edge rather more tightly than he intended. He willed himself to relax.

"A few weeks ago Lady Katherine received intelligence that we believe to be genuine. This." She handed him the paper. "It is the current pattern of movements between jails and the dates that they take place."

"This is all very well. But if you don't know where he was to begin with how will we know where he is being moved to next."

"Ah, my husband believes that he may well be in Brest and the information from our informant indicated that this might very well be true. If this is correct then in three days they will move him back to Paris. That will be our best opportunity to rescue him."

Christian whistled. This was the information that they had been searching for and his little Ana had it all along. What's more she and Kate had worked out from this page of scrawl what it all meant. He was more than impressed. And she was right. If the information about Brest was correct then they really did have 3 days. Contrary to what he had told Ana, he would have stormed there tomorrow after landing and completely lost any element of surprise and with it any chance of ever getting Ethan out again.

"How do we know this is not a trap?"

The excitement in her face dropped. "I… I suppose that you don't. But I trust the intelligence. I would stake my life on it."

"Would you stake your husband's life?" She looked him in the eye with surety and arrogance, something that he had never seen in her before.

"Yes. I believe that if I had trusted my husband with this information he would have known what it meant and would have successfully saved Ethan. However I haven't asked him. I'm asking you."

"What should I hope to gain from this venture?" He didn't much care at this point but he still had a role to play. He looked at Ana willing her to reveal herself. Instead she bit her lip again.

"I have some coin. It is not much but I can try to get more."

Now was the part that Christian had been waiting for. "I don't want your money Mrs. Grey." She looked dismayed. "But… while you are here on the ship you will allow me to do what I want with your person."

"But my husband…"

"…isn't here, Mrs. Grey. I am. And I hold your friend's destiny in my hands." He waved the paper at her and watched her flinch. Now she would stop the game either by declaring her love for her husband or by revealing that she knew his game. Either way was fine with him although he preferred the former as a matter of pride. He relaxed back in his seat and waited for her to finish the ruse.

Taking her time with her response, Ana frowned at the floor for a moment. His body had substantively relaxed and his easy manner exuded a belief that the outcome would work in his favor. Surely even as Blackheart he would not want her to betray him. What husband would? Ana peered at him through hooded lashes and in that moment she understood that he knew that she knew and he was merely waiting for an outcome he could live with. Well damn the arrogance of the man. He had started this game so he could damn well live with the outcome. And wouldn't she enjoy teasing this out for a little longer. Oh yes, she would let him know in her own good time. In the mean time she figured she had three days to completely fray the good captain's nerves. For once being a wanton was going to work in her favor.

Christian confidently steepled his fingers in front of his face absolutely sure of what Ana would do next. So a pin could have been heard dropping when she lifted her face and looked him defiantly in the eye.

"Alright Captain Blackheart, I will do whatever you desire."

Christian's heart pounded in his head and he had to stop himself from gulping in air. "Anything, I desire?" He enunciated each syllable, not believing that she would do this.

Her eyes met his. "Anything."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to Chapter 12. I felt quite overwhelmed at the response and have spent the past week just soaking in all of your comments and wondering how to thank you all. The best way is an update, of course, but to truly thank you all requires a liberal lashing of zesty goodness. I really hope this meets with your approval. And I will welcome your thoughts on the twist at the end. Love you all, Sasha xxx  
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><p>Devastation flooded through his body, confounding him as to what his next move should be. Christian had expected to feel some sense of achievement at this announcement but instead he felt despondent, that she had just agreed to do Blackheart's bidding and she hadn't hesitated for a moment. He held her gaze for a moment, trying to will her to back down and seeing that she was determined to do what he wished. Nausea threatened. Crossing the cabin he threw the door open.<p>

"Where are you going?" Ana sounded equally as confused. Damn her. Yes, he had started the game but she was his wife, goddamn it. She had professed her love for her husband. She could go to hell!

"I am Captain of a ship, Madame. There are things I must do before I can set about playing games with you." His voice sounded rather harsh, even to his own ears but he couldn't deny the hurt.

"You can't leave me here!" Desperation echoed in her plea. He would have, under normal circumstances, made her more comfortable, not that he usually found himself tying female prisoners up in his cabin. However, this was all very far from normal and for his sanity and her safety, he really needed to remove himself.

"I can and I will, Mrs Grey." Again, too harsh, by far. "Do not fret. I shall return anon."

The door slammed and a smile spread across Ana's face. She had unsettled him with her acquiescence. Good. Not that she relished the thought of hurting her husband, but he did deserve a little discomfort for his conniving ways. She had no doubt now, that he would be back and he might just be angry enough to punish her a little more but she felt the passion behind his outburst. To her great surprise, she wasn't afraid.

Sighing, she glanced around the cabin. The stiletto was still within reach and her hands were free. He hadn't thought to tie them up before he departed which was a testament to how much she had unsettled his nerves. She could simply untie the ropes or cut them and make herself more comfortable until his return and it was very tempting. However, she was comfortable enough and she had no idea how long he would be gone. If she was going to win any ground in this game they were playing, she would need to stay exactly where she was.

Christian paced the deck like a rampant bull. He had just told her, as Blackheart, that she would have to do whatever he asked of her and she had, without hesitation agreed. He was ready to hit something or someone, only, the person he wanted to hit was himself. Here he was congratulating himself on his deceptions and she had turned the tables on him, offering herself without reservation to save his friend, and her husband. Only she was about to do the unthinkable and yield to the pirate Captain, even when she had no idea who he was. Did she? He thought about the ropes as they had hit the floor by the bed. She had managed to get herself free and yet when he returned to the cabin she pretended to still be bound.

What would she have done in those minutes of freedom that he had unwittingly given her? He thought she would have tried to escape when she heard the anchor. Surely. She had just told him that she could swim. Only he had ruined her dress and taken her cloak. She would have wanted to leave with some clothes and therefore some dignity. She was a lady of some standing after all and the thought of being waylaid by anyone, be they gentry or servant or villager, would have required her to seek out something to cover her. She would have gone to the armoire where…he had had Taylor bring her clothes for the journey and hung them in the closet for when he would reveal himself to her. He thought about the rest of the cabin. She was undoubtedly taken aback at the decor, it was after all, a little risque for a lady's tastes but perfect for a debauched pirate. But she was as shrewd and keen as her father, she would have seen his personal items around the cabin, including his very distinctive cane. Again, he had thought that he would reveal himself to her almost immediately upon entering the cabin but then…he had started to play and she, God love her, had responded in kind.

Christian stopped his pacing and leaned against the railing. He chuckled. His lovely, intelligent, sensual wife, was playing him and doing so beautifully. The chuckle turned to a hearty roar of delight. She was besting him and he, when he could calm himself, was loving it. Loving her. He hadn't felt this good about life since…ever. He gave himself another half an hour to turn over her actions in his head before he returned to the cabin. Nodding to the boy who had not moved from his post, he entered and was surprised when he found her still bound and dozing in the chair.

Treading softly around her, he admiring the soft fullness of her slack lips in slumber, the thickness of her lashes as they lay across her cheeks. She looked serene, her hair draped soft around her shoulders. Her bosom rose and fell with each breath, a creamy mound of temptation that he reached to touch and then though better of. Bending to untie her ankles, he stilled at the length of her shapely thigh and calf. God, she was perfection, her skin a milky alabaster of satin and silk. This time he did touch, brushing his hand up her calf, feeling the fullness of her in his large hands. He bent to kiss her inner thigh when she moved suddenly and the ropes fell away. He found himself rising slowly as she pressed the edge of her stiletto at his throat. He had no idea if she knew how to use it but thought better of seizing this moment to find out.

"Well, well, well. It seems the good captain might be at a disadvantage." She kept her voice low and menacing as she slowly backed him up against the manacled cross. Christian held his hands up in the air, tempted to wrestle the knife out of her hands but more worried that her resistance might cause her to hurt herself in the attempt. Instead, he went willingly, hoping that if she were calm enough he would reveal himself and they could stop the game. However, right at this moment, the game was enticing his body as nothing had ever done before. Right now, he would play.

"And what would you have done with me, my lady Anastasia."

Her eyebrow quirked and she tipped her head to the side as if considering an answer. "If you would be so kind, Captain, please secure your right hand in the manacle." His eyes widened but he did exactly as she asked.

"And now? Should I call my man to come and subdue you?"

"Oh, I don't think so, Captain. I'll take it from here." She placed the knife between her teeth and reached up to secure his other hand before turning her attention to his feet. The manacles did not go easily about his boots but eventually she achieved her aim. He could have pushed her across the room with one swift kick of his booted foot but where was the sport in that? If she wanted to play games then he was an only too willing opponent.

"Well, it seems you have me at a disadvantage, Mrs Grey." She looked at him long and hard as she backed away a few steps.

"Yes, it does doesn't it." Propping her leg up on the chair, she smiled more to herself that to him, as she flashed her generous thigh in his direction. Slowly, very slowly, she teased the stiletto up the length of her leg before replacing it in her garter. Christian's heart nearly stopped at the sight, all the blood draining from his head and running south to his nether regions. God, she was beautiful.

"Ana. What are you trying to do?" He had to swallow in mid-sentence lest he salivate on the floor at her feet. She was teasing him and he was loving every single minute of it. He pulled fruitlessly at the manacles, wishing to hell he could reach across the room to her.

Ana thought about that for a moment. What was she doing? This game of cat and mouse was far too enticing but she had a feeling she might be playing with fire. Oh, well, she would just have to burn. She regarded him carefully, making sure to hold his eyes, as she turned the chair around so that it faced him. He looked good restrained, she had to admit. But then he looked good all the time. Except for the kohl. She could do without that. It was exotic and interesting but it wasn't her Christian. She suspected that it had been applied for her benefit. Part of his deception. Well, he could stand there and watch while she indulged in a deception of her own. Feeling incredibly brave, now that she was absolutely sure she was facing down her husband, she held her ground and allowed her eyes to trace a line from his boots, up the length of his well-defined thighs, over the bulge she saw forming in his pants. She resisted the temptation to lick her lips as she carried on, up past his taut stomach to the opening of his black shirt, where a dusting of dark hair spread across his chest. When she reached his face she could see that he was breathing heavily with anticipation. Yes, he was going to pay for his deception, in a way that she suspected would hurt him the most. She smiled.

Circling the chair slowly, she allowed her fingertips to leave a languid trail along the wood.

"You know, Captain. My husband will kill you when he discovers that you have taken me prisoner. He really won't be pleased." She stood behind the chair now, both hands on the wooden back as she gazed at him, her head tipped to one side.

"I've no doubt he would. Although I suspect you would be next on his list." He smiled.

"How so?" She permitted a small frown but her smile never wavered.

"For your disobedience and willfulness, Mrs Grey. No husband would be happy with that."

She laughed. "Oh, Captain Blackheart, you don't know my husband, then." She walked around the front of the seat and sank down, but not in a ladylike way. No. She straddled the chair, her knees wide apart as she stroked down her thighs with her hands. The movement caused her to lean forward, her breasts mostly exposed to his gaze and at that point he almost lost all control. Her eyes, which had been focused downward on her hands now glanced up at him through her lashes and she grinned. "You see, I suspect that he loves my disobedience and willfulness the most." Leaning back in the chair she crossed her legs and ran her hands down over her stays, careful to linger a moment on the heavy mounds of her breasts before slinking her hands into the juncture of her thighs. She saw his eyes widen, his hefty stiffness outlined against the cloth of his breaches. He leaned forward again in desperation as she writhed a little in the chair for his benefit.

"Ana." Christian pulled impotently on the manacles, his breathing ragged, his voice low.

"Yes, Christian." She smiled up at him, their eyes locking for a moment before he dropped his head. Thanking a god that he had little time or use for, he drew in a deep breath.

"Christ." She barely heard him and then he lifted his head. "You're going to be the death of me, woman."

"Oh, don't think that thought didn't cross my mind, husband." She stood up and walked to him. She stood with her legs astride and pressed into his hardness as she wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him in for a long kiss. Their tongues tangled in desperation as they teased and tasted. She nipped around the edges of his mouth, enjoying the roughness of his stubble as she licked. He turned his head to capture her mouth again, groaning as she met his fire. After a heady dance, where he lunged and she parried, she pulled away and stared at him. He didn't look too angry at her but they were both breathing hard.

"Darling, the key is in the draw of the chest. Please, let me go."

Tempted as she was to feel his arms around her, his hands on her body, she was quite enjoying him being restrained. Stepping back a little, she smiled. Reaching in, she grasped his manhood with her small palm. He gasped as she squeezed. "Oh, I don't think so. I haven't quite finished with you yet."

Slowly she sank to her knees and opened the buttons of the placket of his trousers, releasing his hard heavy length into her hands.

"Ana. What the hell?" He growled but then lost all composure when she bent to lick him. Following her instincts she listened for his breathing and groans as a guide to how she should approach this act. Ever since she had noticed him trying so hard to disguise his hardness with that seductive apple peeling routine, she had wanted to have him in her mouth. The thought probably should have repulsed her, but the temptation of him and those pictures was too much, especially when coupled with that musky male aroma that he gave off. Now that she had her mouth and her hand about him, she had no desire to stop. "Christ. Ana stop, I'm going to…"

He couldn't complete that thought as she sucked hard and felt hot salty liquid pump into her mouth. It surprised her but not enough to stop. She swallowed him down, allowing him to complete his spasms as she squeezed gently the last vestiges of cum from his cock. Again, the thought that she probably should not have enjoyed the taste of him, lingered in her consciousness for only a moment before she brushed it aside.

With a coyness borne of mischief she smiled up at him, still holding his member. "Did I please you, my Lord?"

"Ana, I… please, the key." She frowned. Perhaps she had done it wrong. She thought from his moans and thrusts that he was enjoying himself as much as she. It seemed like a reasonable sort of act between lovers, but then… maybe, it was not something that a married noble should engage in. She was torn between hurt and dismay and he, uncooperative man that he was, was saying nothing helpful to put her at her ease. Petulantly, she walked to the chest and located the key before returning to release him. She couldn't sense anger or disappointment in him but she felt it rising in herself. She had overstepped the mark, displayed her wantonness again, and he was about to reject her. She felt the sting of hot tears.

"I'm sorry, my Lord." She stood, contrite in the middle of the cabin, her hands clasped in front of her body, her head bowed down as the hot tears hit the wooden floor.

Christian had only just recovered his equilibrium and it took him a moment to realise what was happening.

"Oh, no you don't. Come here, minx." With one fluid movement he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, swatting her backside playfully before sitting down on the bed. Ana couldn't help the squeal as she left the ground. What was he doing? He shifted her until she was laying across his lap and this time she sensed his anger. His hand rubbed around the cheek of her bottom before he slapped down hard making her cry out.

"Repeat after me, Anastasia." Although she was heartily confused, she felt compelled to do as he asked. His hand came down again and she cried out. "What say you, wench?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, my Lord." Ana cried out in anguish. His slap smarted on her hot skin but then he followed it with soothing rubbing that had her body in turmoil. After a moment, he lifted his hand and slapped again.

"You are willful and disobedient. Say it." He gritted out.

"I'm willful, my lord, and disobedient." His hand soothed and she squirmed.

"You will do as you're told in future." Slap!

"Ow! I will do what I am told, Sir. Please, Sir." She was about to beg for mercy but thought better of it. Not because she didn't think he would stop if she asked, but because she actually wanted to feel that sting again. She gave another involuntary squirm as he rubbed her buttock.

"And you will love your husband unreservedly." Slap!

"I do love my husband unreservedly." His hand stilled at her words.

"You do?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, Christian. I love you." Slap! She cried out while simultaneously pushing her bottom into his hand. He smiled. "What was that for?" Her little fist reached awkwardly behind around behind his back and punched the only place she could reach, his kidney. The woman packed a wallop, but he was enjoying her fire.

"And I will not offer any part of myself to pirates ever again." He allowed her to lift herself up as he said it and she straddled his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips descended on his and he sucked on her tongue with abandon. Her hips pressed into him, confirming that he was indeed hard again and ready for her.

"I will only offer myself to my pirate." She breathed into his mouth.

"You will?"

"Yes, my husband, my pirate, my lover." She punctuated each role with a kiss to the corners of his mouth as she removed his mask. At that declaration, Christian tossed her onto the bed, reaching out to carefully remove her weapon. He took the knife between his teeth and then slid the garter down her thigh, enjoying the feel of her silky skin as he did so. Then he removed her boots and stockings, leaving her now with only her short petticoat and stays intact. They were removed next with an agonizingly slow pull of the ribboned laces. Finally, she was naked, her breathing labored and lips pouting with desire.

Picking up her foot he placed a chaste kiss on her instep. Her gasp became a moan as she leaned back on her elbows, her head thrown back. He risked a quick glance before his tongue traced a lazy path up over her ankle to her calf. Her pointed toe landed on his shoulder and he stretched her leg out with his hands, kissing and sucking on the flesh behind her knee.

At that point Ana lost the will to stay upright and lay back, only to find herself gasping in shock at the sight she beheld on the underside of the canopy of the bed. Why on earth had she not noticed this before? The canopy was lined with mirrored tiles, so that she could see herself being seduced by her husband. There she was in all her naked glory, her leg stretched over her husband's shoulder, and his broad muscled back, almost detectable through his shirt. She pulled her leg away from him.

"No. This will not do." She looked at him with a frown as he pulled himself upright in surprise.

Thinking that she had had an attack of nerves at the sight of herself, Christian prepared himself to be let down by a strategic retreat on her part. Instead, she scrambled across the bed toward him and began tearing at his clothes.

"These need to all come off." She all but tossed him down on the bed and began pulling at his boots. He raised his hands and let her go to it with some amusement. She was a woman on a mission and it seemed his nudity was her quest. Once she had removed all his clothing she stood up and walked to the chest where the basin stood and wet the edge of a cloth before returning to the bed. "That, too."

Waving the cloth at him, she indicated the kohl on his eyes. He took the cloth and began to remove the offending marks. "Can I ask why?"

She placed her hands on her hips and studied him. "Because I want to be with my husband. This evening has been a little fraught and I should prefer to know that the man who is making love to me is, indubitably, Christian Grey. The man I married, and not some rogue pirate."

Christian chuckled as he completed his assigned task. She took the cloth from him and turned to throw it into the basin. He was surprised at her good shot. Then she turned and approached the bed. This time he lay back and awaited her pleasure. She crawled up his body, planting hot kisses as she went, singing his skin with a fire that he had never known with any other woman. His desire for her hit like an inferno when her breasts brushed over his cock. A shudder ran down his body and she glanced up at him, her lips poised less than an inch from the tip, her breasts weighing down on either side and the look of lust and concern mixed in. There was no way that he wasn't going to end up inside her this time.

"Come here." His voice sounded gutteral and harsh even to him but the burn for her increased twenty-fold when she did exactly what he asked without hesitation. His hands snaked beneath her armpits as he hoisted her up his chest. Their lips met, open and soft, tongues thrusting and tasting. So caught in the delight of her skin on his, her mouth joined with him, he hardly knew where she began and he ended. This woman, this girl, this wanton siren, his beautiful wife, could have asked him to scuttle his own ship and he would have done so, such was the power she had over him. A power she must never know about lest he lose his soul. She terrified him, enticed him, enthralled him. She had since the moment she had stormed into his quarters aboard the Ruby Queen.

Rolling her over, he pinned her with his body against the mattress before shifting her hands above her head and pinning her wrists with one large hand. He pressed a kiss to her underarm before licking him her arm, delighting in the shiver that ran through her. Her hips thrust up toward him and he suppressed a groan as her slim hip bone crushed against his engorged erection. It both hurt him and urged him on. Shifting his leg across her legs, he secured her even further, surreptitiously rubbing himself against her hip as he suckled on the skin of her neck. A long anguished moan came from her, urging him to repeat his movement.

"Christian. Oh God." Her voice was husky and soft, the sound of an ache that needed to be rubbed. A gasp, a thrust, a grind, a moan. The sounds of their play blending into a sensual symphony around their desperate bodies.

"Kiss me." She turned her head at his whispered instruction, mouth softly open and receiving of his lips, his tongue. He bit on her lip and she ground upwards with her hips on another moan. Every sound from her mouth, every movement of her body, was driving him to the brink. "I want you."

"Take me." He also didn't hesitate to do her bidding. Shifting over her, he released her wrists and entwined his fingers with hers. Hers grasped at him, securing her as she fought to bring her breathing under control. He didn't allow it, smothering her mouth again. Once more, he lifted a fraction, just enough to gaze into her eyes. They were pools of want, drawing him in. He felt lost and discovered in the same moment, knowing that his life was completely in her hands, his heart in her control. Resistance was futile and he allowed himself to sink. Into her eyes, into her heart, into her body.

Ana's head tipped back as he thrust inside her, his hard length filling her. The heat from her tight sheath drew a hiss and a groan from him. The sensation so intense he had to pause lest he lost all control too soon. Tight muscles squeezed him, reminding him to move. Drawing back slowly on a gasp from her lips, he took his sweet time to push into her again, feeling her stretch as he encroached. The tussle continued, a push and pull, tense and release, as they found their rhythm.

Keeping himself firmly inside her, he rolled onto his back, bringing her up over the top of him. To his delight, Ana didn't hesitate, didn't miss a beat, as she straddled his hips and walked herself upright with her hands. Gripping her hips, he urged her on as she rose and fell, riding him to completion. His hands skated up her torso and he palmed her breasts. She tipped herself back, her hand reaching behind to his thigh as she altered the angle, throwing her head back.

"My goddess." Christian ground out, his eyes locked on her face as every emotion played across it. The edge was near for her and he wanted her to find her bliss as much as he wanted to continue the ride. Placing his fingers where her body joined his, he flicked gentle over the hardened nub, bringing her to a precipice that could have been written in tall blushing letters across her cheeks. Her lip snuck beneath her teeth and he thrust upward just as her cries rang out, both coming long and hard with a series of intense pulses as he filled and she tightened.

Panting in shallow breaths, Ana could do nothing but rest her palms on his shoulders. Although she had never felt so vulnerable in her life, she was comforted by the stunned look in her husband's eyes. The blush that threatened to overtake her body held off as she began to understand that he was affected by what had happened as she.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" Disbelief was her instant response quickly followed by a tightening of her muscles causing him to grimace as his still hard and sensitive erection responded. Ana's face fell as she realised that she had misread him. Her head dropped, unable to meet his gaze. Wanting to scramble off him and bury herself in the sheets. Instead, all she could do was lift herself up and cover her face with her hands. Christian knew what has happening almost before she did. His hands pulled hers apart, his eyes drawing her gaze. "No, don't you dare. Ana you're stunning. An angel. My goddess."

Shaking her head, tears threatened. It was too much. He was too much. She had been willing to play his game. She had even felt strong and beautiful when she had sought to seduce him. When his seduction of her body began proper, she had welcomed him inside, only too eager to meet his desires. But to have taken control like this, to be the one who had driven them both to their release, with him lying prone beneath her, was so much more than she was capable of handling.

"I'm sorry, my lord. You must be disgusted."

"Anastasia. Don't." His voice was stern, cutting through her remorse like a knife but when she finally looked at him she only saw concern and that made her feel worse.

"Women don't do this, and husbands don't let them." The edge of panic in her whisper ripped at his heart. How could she not see what she did to him? How could she not feel his desire for her? His spitfire, his wanton princess was sinking into the despair of misinformation and he wanted to find all of those idiot doctors and ram their ridiculous theories down their throats. However, right in this moment, his wife need his reassurance. Offering a prayer to whatever gods might be listening, he hoped that he would find the right words.

"You know nothing of what women do or husband's allow, do you?" His voice was gentle. Not accusing. Confusion crowded her thoughts. He lifted her off his hips and the certainty that he would now eject her from his bed, stung. Her stomach roiled. On strong arms, he pushed himself up the bed and leaned against the bed head. His body rippled with strength and beauty and Ana felt even less deserving than every before. Then he reached out to her and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping her in both a blanket and his arms.

Once he had her settled he began the project of stroking her hair. She wanted to relax but in complete contradiction to his solicitous touch, she began to tremble.

"You don't have to be so kind."

He stilled at her words before leaning her away so he could look at her face.

"Sweetheart, I'm not being kind. I'm in awe of you, beautiful girl. Ana, you are so perfect, my heart hurts. I can't believe that you are mine. I can't believe that I have been so blessed as to find you. Don't you ever change what you are, what you feel. And don't ever stop doing that to me. I promise, you would be every man's dream." She glanced up through quiet tears. A hand on her chin, he kissed them away on each of his next words. "However, be warned wife. You. Are. Mine."

With a gentleness reserved for small children and spooked horses, Christian held her face as he brushed his lips softly over hers, coaxing her forth. The trembling of her body began to ease under his soft caress but he did not ease up until she was returning his kiss with the ripe passion she had demonstrated during their lovemaking. When her small hands snaked out from under the sheets and fisted in his hair, he knew that she had her confidence back.

Finally, he drew away, his forehead resting against hers in breathless wonder. "And you will promise that you will never regret what just happened between us because the sight of you, doing that for me, to me, was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

"It was?" she glanced at him through her lashes, shyly. He grinned, the type of self-satisfied grin of a man who is well-pleased with his life.

"Oh, indeed." Laying her back across the pillows with reverence, he rose above her. "Now…wife…you have loved me, you have sated me and you have tasted me. Please do me the honor and let me return the favor." Ana's eyes widened but once his head dove between her legs, she was powerless to say no.

Some hours later they lay in bed staring at the mirrors that lined the inner ceiling of the large four poster bed. Ana felt completely sated and peaceful as she lay back in the crook of his arm, their fingers wound around each others in the air above their heads.

"We've been at sea for hours. I take it we are not going straight to Brest." Her words were a question.

"No, I've given the order to sail down toward Cadiz. We will come up the coast under Spanish flags to arouse less suspicion."

"What, being Spanish is better than English?"

"Under current political conditions, yes, it is." She trusted his knowledge, then frowned.

"I thought you would want me to be out of the way. In safety. I had expected you to deliver me back to England. You had time."

"Oh, no. I'm not letting you out of my sight. You're not going to decide that you no longer want to be my wife."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking of your plans to be rid of this marriage."

"But how could you…?" She wondered if he had intercepted her letters to Kate.

"I didn't but you've just confirmed what I suspected. You know that annulments are extremely difficult to obtain. You, my darling, would have to submit to an internal inspection, which you would clearly now fail." The grin spread across his face. "And I would have to prove my impotence by sleeping with three prostitutes without touching them."

Her pout was instant and enticing. "And you wouldn't have been able to resist?"

He leaned in and sucked on her lip. "I would have resisted because they are not you but I'm only human. Besides, every time I think of you, I want to throw you on the floor and make love to you. You bewitch me, my love. You would be a much harder test than I am capable of passing."

Ana wriggled around so that his arms wrapped around her from behind, a smug smile on her face. "And you promise you're not disgusted by me?"

"God no. That has been the delight of all of this. You are a joy. But I suspect that I am going to have to work a little harder to convince you. Just rest assured, that here in this moment, I am completely enamored of your body and your desire. I will currently follow you into the seventh circle of hell just to see your mouth wrapped around my…" She reached up and clamped a hand over his mouth to stop the words, with a giggle.

"Please don't. I'm not ready for talk like that, quite yet." She snuggled back down but he felt her shiver. Then her timid whisper came. "I'm scared about what all this means."

"Right now, it means that I love you. That is all you need to worry about. I will protect you and love you and cherish all of you. We can worry about the rest of it as it comes. If it comes."

"Oh, I have no doubt that it will come." He heard the anguish in that small statement and wanted to kiss away her fears but knew that this was something they needed more time to work through. He would not diminish her fears nor dismiss them. Time and trust was required and now that he had her firmly in his arms, he could find them in abundance.

"I want to help you to rescue Ethan?" She was keen to know his plans and so was he. Since receiving her information, a few ideas had been mulling about in between their bouts of hot and heavy sex. None of them involved his beautiful young wife being part of that process. If he had his way, she would remain on the ship, heavily guarded while he and Taylor and some of his most able men dealt with Ethan's transport guard. He suspected that he might have to tie her up to achieve that aim but he was willing to do that if he had to. No, Ana would not be part of that process and now that she was here with him, he was at once congratulating himself at securing her emotions and berating himself for bringing her anywhere near the French coast.

"I promise you, that no matter what happens. I will keep you safe, Ana." She glanced up in the mirror as he said the words but she didn't miss the frown.

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><p>The carriage raced into the grounds of Trevelyan Grange with a thundering of hooves. As soon as she had received the note she had moved heaven and earth to get to her son as quickly as possible, knowing that Christian and Ana might be gone for a while. Her intention was not to remove him from this place. She was not heartless and her desire to be here was never about wrenching him from the only home he had known. Pushing down her disappointment she descended from the carriage and moved quickly to the house. The hopes that she had for Nicholas' future rested on Ana establishing a relationship with him, something that could not happen if she did not remain at the Grange. For Ana to have left meant that she had not yet taken the boy to her heart. No, she was not here to disrupt but to facilitate a bond, even though her heart ached with the certain knowledge that she could not publicly acknowledge him as her own.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

_The acrid smell assaulted his senses. Struggling to his feet, he shouted orders into the dark and braced for them to be followed through. The ship swung wildly to starboard amid a flurry of action, the turn and the dropping of sails occurring in one fluid motion. Direction set, he ordered all hands to re-hoist sail and outrun the frigate in pursuit of the fourth ship in their small fleet. Despair flooded as he watched the ship, at least half a mile ahead of them, take a direct hit and begin to sink._

_Screams and smoke filled the air and the panic of the loss, defeat snatched from the jaws of victory threatened to overwhelm him. The silent tears that came were as much for those that were lost as they were for the stinging, searing heat that surrounded the ship. Bodies were pulled from the dark, turbulent waters. Dead and alive. The vengeur limped back into Dover under cover of darkness, its decks littered with injured and frightened faces of those who should never have been caught in this bloody war. He approached the small pile of canvas lying by the rain barrel, willing himself to check one more body. Lifting the cover, he swung the lantern over the top of the unseeing and bloated face and felt his heart explode with pain, a burning bile welling up in his throat as he dropped to his knees and cried out, "Ana!"_

* * *

><p>"Christian!" A hand shook him awake. Her frightened voice coupled with trembling hands. "Christian. Wake up!"<p>

Shaking off the last vestiges of his nightmare he sat up almost immediately, his breathing coming in hard and heavy gulps as it always did. The hammering in his chest took over as he fought to bring his body under control. She was there. She was there. He grasped her face in his hands and brought her lips to his, searing her lips with hot, tear-stained kisses.

"Ana." His body shook with relief, as the emotion flowed down his face in rivulets of salty agony. "Oh, my love. My Ana."

"Yes, darling. I'm here. I'm here." Kneeling up, she pulled him toward her body and allowed him what he needed, her lips, her face in his hands, even though his grip was hurting her. Fisting her hands in his hair, she sought to pull him closer and closer still, somehow knowing that his comfort lay at her breast. His sobs cracked the core of her heart as he came fully awake in her arms. "I'm here, my love. I'm here."

Face buried in her breasts,he clung to her, wrapping his arms around her body as if she could save him. Without any other option, she cooed and caressed, soothing his tremors until he could be still and silent. Whatever the nightmare, it had unsettled them both completely and there would be no peace until they had calmed each other's bodies. She turned and lay back on the bed, pulling him over her. They did not speak as he quietly entered her, sheathing himself in her comforting heat and began to move, gently thrusting away the last of his fear. For her part, Ana sought to pull him in and in further until his release became her relief. So in tune was she with his need that she followed him over quickly, pulsing her own release around his heavy shaft as he pumped the last of his seed into her. When he pulled out he wrapped her in his arms, their love a protective force against the night.

"Will you tell me about the dream?" Her voice was no more than a whisper in the dark that cut across his thoughts. What could he say? How could he ever explain?

"A recurring nightmare. Nothing more." His lips touched her hair, hoping to draw some much needed strength from her.

"Yet, one that haunts you even now you are awake. Please Christian." He wanted to tell her about his turbulent past. Although so much had changed between them in recent days, their relationship was not yet strong enough for him to open up that wound.

"I am merely worried about the Ruby Queen. My cousin has taken her on a fact finding mission along the French coast and I have not heard from him for two weeks. It is playing on my mind. Go to sleep. I promise I won't bother you again." His words had a finality about them that both hurt and challenged her. Her heart knew he would not speak about it now. She felt the kiss on her head again and several times after before she drifted off. For his part, Christian kept his promise through the simple act of staying awake until dawn.

* * *

><p>Warm sun streamed through the porthole, waking her from her sleep. Stretching one naked arm across the sheets, Ana was disappointed to find she was alone. Her hands touched paper. Instantly, she sat up, the sheet wrapped around her and unfolded the note.<p>

_Good morning, my darling captive. Bathe, get dressed and come up on deck as soon as you have broken your fast. Yours always, C_

Clutching the words to her lips, she smiled before dropping a kiss on the paper. Moving quickly through her ablutions, she forewent her normally extensive undergarments for something simple that she could manage herself. The soft blue muslin of her gown draped over her form, felt different to her now. Her skin was aflush with the memory of Christian's touch, giving her a fullness and confidence in her femininity that she had never felt before.

A knock sounded on the door and she called for him to enter. Only when the door opened, it wasn't Christian who stood there, but a surly and rather unruly looking urchin with olive skin and dark eyes. The boy carried a tray laden with a bowl of warm gruel and a mug of hot tea. Her disappointment was overrun by her need for sustenance.

"Thank you." Ana was effusive as she bounced over to the table. The boy, however, said nothing, stepping back away from the table quickly. Ana sat and blew with unladylike enthusiasm across her tea, taking a sip before addressing the cabin boy. "What is your name?"

"Williams, m'Lady." The boy was obviously trying to deepen his voice in an effort to seem older than he was but he could not disguise his thick accent.

Ana frowned. "That's not a very French name.

"No, m'Lady. My father is … was an Englishman." Ana sipped her tea before she continued her interrogation.

"Yet you grew up in France. With your mother?" A nod of the head as the boy glanced down at the hands in front of his lap, wringing fingers betraying a raft of unspoken emotion. "Is she still there?"

Another nod and that emotion was checked as he raised his head to look ahead, his back ramrod straight. She had touched a nerve.

"How long has it been since you saw her?"

"A while, m'Lady." The words were harsh and Ana heard the 'not long enough' implicit in the tone of disgust and anger. Curious.

"How long have you been with Captain Blackheart?" Hesitation as the boy's eyes slid to Ana's.

"A little while, m'Lady." It was not much of an answer and the boy returned to staring straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. Although he would not look directly at her, Ana studied the boy closer. The soft skin underneath the thin layer of dirt and the large brown eyes and youthful, almost feminine features. The boy didn't look more than 15 years old. "If you'll excuse me, M'Lady."

The lad turned swiftly and exited the room with all the smoothness and light of a girl in a ballroom. Ana smiled until the door shut and then allowed the frown to come. The boy was extremely taciturn and acted as if he didn't quite approve of her.

* * *

><p>Later in the morning, Ana watched Christian as he strode about the deck calmly giving orders. He was simply breathtaking, clad from head to toe in his black clothes, breeches tightly outlining the muscular form of his legs. The memory of the ripples of muscle down his stomach, the dusting of hair on swarthy skin across his hard chest, caused molten responses in her own body. The effect of his presence had her weak at the knees. Quite simply, he was beautiful. He was also exhausted. The mask was off but at the ready should the pirate captain be required to appear quickly and she wondered as she studied the shadows under his intoxicating eyes, how often he was required to play the part.<p>

"Are you warm enough, Mrs Grey?" Taylor's concentration was on the helm but he had one eye on his mistress as she stood at his side. He had been charged with watching her while Christian inspected the ship. From the stern look in his eye, he seemed to be taking his role seriously.

"I'm fine, thank you, Mr Taylor. When will we turn back toward Brest?" Thinking that a change in topics might help her to keep these involuntary urges to rush into her husband's arms at bay, Ana tried to engage the first mate in conversation.

"We need to sail through the French cordon first. If we get boarded we will show them papers for Cadiz." He nodded his head toward the open sea where several ships could be seen at least half a mile away from the ship. They seemed to be traveling slower than the Black Diamond, sometimes turning back into fleet as if circling back around to keep the fleet in place. "Once we are safely through, we'll go down the coast toward Bilbao and once we are level with Saint-Nazaire we will turn back and hug the coast to Brest."

Alarm spread through her body when one of the ships turned straight toward them. "Will they board us?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way it doesn't matter. We have enough cargo to buy our way out of trouble." Taylor's almost laconic attitude calmed her nerves. The romance of the sea enticed her, as much as being married to a notorious privateer, but the reality of the danger with which they continually flirted, set her on edge.

"When will we arrive in Brest?" She was anxious to retrieve Ethan and be gone back to her home. Not that she had any illusions that his rescue would be, in any way, easy. The ship she had been watching turned to starboard and tacked away from them, allowing her to let out a breath.

"The Captain wants us to sail into port tomorrow at dusk." Yes, she thought, and leave under cover of darkness.

"How long has he been doing this?" Her voice was quiet, restrained. She did not want their words to be carried on the wind. Christian, was half a boat length away from her, but he paused and looked at her as if he had heard. A breeze ruffled his hair as he coiled a thick rope, his hands moving with efficiency. Smiling briefly at him, she turned her gaze out to sea, searching for another distraction, lest his crew see how much she lusted for her husband. Or how much she feared for his safety.

"Being Blackheart? For the Captain, it started during the wars but there has been a Blackheart sailing these waters of and on for the past four decades, I would say." That statement was distraction enough. Ana's face flicked back quickly to study Taylor's and he was deadly serious, if a little amused. For his part, Taylor chuckled, enjoying the shocked look on Ana's face.

"But…"

"There has been a need for Captain Blackheart for three generations, now. The first Black Diamond sailed these waters under the command of the Captain's grandfather." His words cut across her unformed questions with a rueful smile.

Ana's eyes were so wide they looked like they might pop out of her skull. Taylor wanted to roar with completely inappropriate laughter.

"Aye, m'Lady. The late Duke was the first Captain Blackheart. His sons took over from him toward the end of the last century. Or so I'm told."

"Sons?" Ana had thought the Duke of Carrick an only child.

"The current Duke had a younger brother. Went down with the second Black Diamond back in 1802, when you were still in the nursery." He looked thoughtful. "There was a hiatus then, where Blackheart disappeared. He was brought back into service nigh on seven years hence."

"But Christian would have been only 20."

"Aye, back then he was entrenched in service to the navy and working toward his first command. So, no, he was not the reincarnated Blackheart. That honor went to Lord Elliot."

Ana's full attention was on the first mate's handsome face now. The waves of revelation kept rushing over her. "Elliot?" Christian's father, uncle and grandfather before him? "Decades of privateering? Why?"

"There has always been need of privateers for one reason or another, m'Lady. In the Grey's case, usually in service to the King, even though that can never be acknowledged. They do the work that the naval command cannot, taking back what belongs to England, moving spies, exiles and diplomats between countries as needed. Not everything that needs to be done is legal and if caught, they are on their own. No crown, no country to save them."

Ana gasped. "So you do this work for your country knowing that the government will disavow all knowledge of your existence in times of trouble?"

"Aye, it is the risk we all take." Taylor's gaze swept the deck, taking in all of the men currently moving about their tasks. Ana wondered at their lack of concern, simultaneously understanding that continuous worry was pointless and exhausting, taking their focus off the important work that they had to complete.

"But, why do they do it?" Ana's world had never been completely black or white. She did not question the morality of the situation, simply the motivations of men who might choose another life.

"Some do it because the spoils of war are worth the risk."

"But not Christian. And not you." The question implicit in the statement.

"No. He gives away more than he ever takes." The emigres who populated the Trevelyan Grange property were obvious recipients of his generosity. She wondered who else had benefited from Blackheart over the years.

"And you remain loyal because of that?"

His hard eyes met hers. "My task is to keep him safe." She contemplated his words for a moment, latching on to what she thought was his hidden message.

"So you don't work for my husband?"

"I didn't say that." A glance away. A grim look. Then she watched as he focused completely on Christian, who was now climbing a mast to join a group of men who were tying off a sail. An unnameable emotion swept across his eyes. "I owe him more than he could ever pay me in a lifetime, m'Lady. I'm not here for money."

The loyalty and pride the flooded through his body warmed Ana. This man loved her husband like a brother. Emotionally and mentally, she stepped back for a moment, permitting him this private moment, until her curiousity got the better of her.

"May I ask why?" The warmth of her hand on his arm, reminded him that she was there.

"I was caught on French soil. Would likely have been put to death. As the crew of a privateer, one that did not exist to the crown, I should have been left for dead."

"He rescued you."

"Aye. Rode into Paris and ripped me out from under the nose of the authorities. What's more, he did it alone. He'd been ordered to leave me behind, but he didn't. So yes, I owe him more than loyalty."

A tear slipped down her cheek unbidden. At that moment, Christian was halfway up the mast, checking the rigging, the wind blowing his shirt tight and outlining his taut muscular chest. He was tugging on a rope and talking to three men who were up there with him. The man closest to him responded to Christian's words by tipping his head back to laugh as he clapped his captain on the shoulder. The good natured banter and fresh wind in his face made him look happier than she had seen him all morning. The more she learned about this complex beautiful man, the more in love with him she fell. His eyes sought hers and the flash of uncertainty she saw in them caught her breath.

In a quiet voice, laced with new understanding, she spoke again. "He told you to tell me."

"Aye, m'Lady, that he did." Wondering about Christian's motives was more than she felt capable of in that moment. She kept her gaze fixed on Christian as he wrapped a rope around his wrist, grabbing hold with both hands and swung down from the mast, landing smoothly on the deck below. Three men on the deck were standing at the ready to catch him if he should have fallen or swung too far. He didn't need them but it was reassuring to see that they were all there, looking out for each other. Moving toward him with the determination of a woman who needed to be with her man, Ana stepped quickly into his embrace. The kiss was pure delight marred only by good-natured the jeers and cheers of the surrounding crew. Neither of them cared.

When Ana broke from his lips and turned in his arms to gaze out at sea, she noted that the cabin boy stood to her left with a look of disgust. With barely a dozen words spoken to each other in the time she had been on the ship, Ana was at a loss to understand that disapproval.

"I don't think your boy likes me very much." Christian arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her back firmly against the front of his body as they both looked out to sea. He chuckled as he glanced at the petulant look on the boy's face.

"No, I think you're right. What on earth have you done to offend him?"

"For the life of me, I do not know. Nothing comes to mind. Perhaps it is hero worship and I am taking too much of your time." She felt his lips on her hair just as she felt the boy's angry eyes heat her skin.

"Perhaps." Ana almost missed the odd note in his voice.

* * *

><p>After the luncheon had been served and eaten, Christian gathered a small group of his most trusted men in his cabin to discuss the plan for Brest. Maps were laid out on the table indicating the main roads away from the city and the prison.<p>

"If our information is correct, there will be a convoy leaving the prison tomorrow evening." Christian's voice a calm authority in the room as the men began to debate the merits of one approach or another.

Ana sat quietly in a chair and listened. The cabin boy was adjacent to her, standing ready to take orders by the door. Ana motioned to the chair beside her.

"Come, sit with me." Christian glanced up at her words and nodded to the boy, giving him permission to move. The young man shifted uncertainly and slowly sank down in the chair next to her without taking his eyes off his captain.

"Do you have an opinion on the plan?"

The boy's eyes shifted to hers quickly and then back to Christian. Once more Christian had heard and gave the permission for the boy to answer her before carrying on the discussion. Ana noticed the boy's wide-eyed but subtle shake of the head. As if he did not want to obey his captain's orders.

"You do not want to disrespect the Captain?" Ana kept her voice soft.

The boy shook his head and looked down.

"How did you come to be in his employ?" Just then a knock on the door sounded and Williams jumped to his feet to answer it, successfully avoiding any more of Ana's questions. Christian glanced at her and she shrugged, shaking her head in response. She had not gotten anywhere with the lad and she almost felt compelled to take Christian to task later for indenturing this child on his ship. However, she knew that children were too often pressed into service, the ships providing a better life than being along on the streets of London.

"Captain, we're at Saint-Nazaire." Williams stepped closer to Christian to announce the message that had just been delivered.

"Taylor, go atop and give orders to bring her about. We'll need to find a sheltered bay to anchor for the night." Taylor nodded and left the room taking the other men with him. "And check that there are no witnesses to our movements. I want no pursuit from a French frigate."

Once the men had departed, Christian returned his attention to the table and had resumed studying the maps when Ana approached. "Do you think your plans will work?"

"To be honest, I don't know. The wagon will move from the prison gates, through to the main town square where they could take one of three main roads all of which offer opportunity but also present problems. The biggest risk is that we could assume that they will take one at the risk of losing them on another. The square is too open for my liking, but to delay them directly outside the prison gates holds the greatest risk as it is likely heavily guarded."

"So you will delay them in the town square?" Christian nodded unhappily at her question.

The tension in Christian's movements indicated that he wasn't completely happy with this plan. Out of the corner of her eye, Ana noticed Williams surreptitiously moving closer to them. She wanted to draw him in to the discussion but hesitated to spook the lad.

"It would seem that it is our best option. If we are bold, we can rip the wagon out from under their noses and rescue more than just Ethan. That is, if Ethan is even on the transport." A shout came from on deck and Christian excused himself to assist with the ship but the cabin boy did not leave with him.

Edging nearer, Williams peered at the maps. Ana noticed his approach and stood back a little, to let the boy see. He fidgeted anxiously. His small fingers traced the road from the prison to the town square where the three main roads branched off.

Ana watched over his shoulder. "I know you have a concern?"

"I know the square. The captain is right, it is too exposed." Ana studied the map as the urchin snaked out a delicate hand and touched a point on the map. "These are government buildings." Williams pointed to the southern side of the square. The placement indicated that the buildings faced both north on to the square and west to one of the exit routes.

"But they could take the wagon on the other side of the square and escape east?" Ana asked. The boy shook his head.

"By that time the guard will have increased to 6 cavalry, the driver and the wagon guard. The cavalry guard will join them at the square." The boy pointed without hesitation at a narrow band of road that led from the prison to the square. "This road is very confined. The wagon cannot turn if it were stopped. See how it bends? Right here is where they should stop the wagon. It is a blind spot, out of sight of the prison and the square. They could empty the wagon and then release the horses through the square by way of distraction while making their escape down here." He pointed to a narrow track that ran East.

"They would need to position horses here to get back to the ship." Ana pointed to the place where the track opened into a cul de sac.

"Yes, there is only one problem with that plan."

"And that is?"

"There may be more prisoners that the Captain will wish to release than just Lord Kavanagh." The boy's lips tightened.

"The Captain is very generous but even he will not free men who might be hardened criminals."

"Every Frenchman has had to become a hardened criminal, Madame. That is a matter of survival in these times of unrest. Besides, it is not the criminals but the poor and their champions who end up in French jails nowadays, Madame."

Ana could have bitten her tongue. This young man had obviously seen more than his fair share of hardship in his young life. And like most young people, probably had little knowledge of a world without war. Her heart ached for him.

"Yet, you would assist in helping Lord Kavanagh?" Placing a hand on the lad's shoulder she turned him to face her. The large brown eyes were on the verge of tears as the boy swiped an angry hand across his face.

"I would help Captain Blackheart, Madame. My loyalty is to him." The boy announced so fiercely that Ana almost stepped back from him. The boy stared her down defiantly and then turned back to the maps, almost self-consciously.

"So what do you suggest?" The men had agreed on taking the wagon outside the prison gates. "What about the prison? What do you know of the gates?"

"There are two sets of gates. The ones inside are heavily guarded. The prisoners will be transfered into the wagons inside these gates and then they will proceed out through to the outer holding section. There are usually less guards here but still enough to cause problems. Once the wagons leave they are manned by one driver and one guard until they reach the square and then a 4 to 6 man horse guard will join them. Our opportunity to seize and empty the wagon is in the 20 minutes that it takes to get from the outer walls to the square."

"So the horse guard will not advance down the prison road, willingly?" Williams shook his head.

"No, because it is so narrow that traffic cannot move in both directions. This is why they move prisoners at night, when there is no one else using the road. If the horses were upset in any way it would be a disaster."

Ana grinned. "Well, that would be a distraction."

"And a terrible waste of good horse flesh." Williams frowned. Ana felt herself warming to the boy. "The danger is that the gate guard will be within shouting distance of the delay point. If they hear the wagon stop or the driver becomes alarmed, they will come running."

"Will the internal gate guards hear as well?" Ana studied the boy's face.

"They might but it will take them time to get the gates open again. By the time they have done that we would be gone."

Ana didn't miss the 'we' but didn't comment on it. She was now too distracted by what she saw and heard in Williams descriptions. The voice had become lighter, the movements more feminine. As Williams warmed to the topic she was forgetting who she was talking to.

"What is your name?" Ana asked quietly.

Williams stopped and faced Ana. "I have already told you, Madame."

"Your first name." Ana took the girl's hands in reassurance.

The girl swallowed. "Leila, Madame." It was no more than a whisper.

"And how old are you, Leila?" Ana was careful to suspend judgment and emotion. She didn't want to frighten the girl.

"I am 22 years old, Madame."

"Does the Captain know that you are a girl?" The young woman's eyes dropped to the floor. Ana made her voice firmer, harsher. "Does he?"

"Oui… non…. I do not know." The woman, Leila, was on the verge of tears. Ana dropped her hands and turned away, trying to keep her emotions in check. This boy, was a girl, a young woman. Who slept in the outer room of her husband's cabin and had been with the Captain for an indeterminate amount of time.

"Are you in love with Captain Blackheart?" Ana spoke to the wall. She dreaded the answer but when none came, she found her anger building at the silence. Whirling back to face the young woman, she restated her question. "Are you in love with my husband?"

Leila had her head bowed. Heavy tears dripping to the floor. At Ana's second question she raised her head suddenly with a flare of anger and shock in her eyes.

"No, Madame. I am not in love with your husband." Ana studied her face for a moment and saw the truth with a great sense of relief. Leila Williams did not love Christian. Either that or she was a consummate liar.

"Yet, you hesitated when I asked about Captain Blackheart." Leila held her eyes for a second and then glanced away to the side of the room. Ana thought about her conversation with Taylor earlier today. The history of Captain Blackheart had been playing on her mind for most of the day. She stepped toward Leila and retook her hands. "Leila, are you in love with Lord Elliot Grey?"

Leila glared at her. "No. I do not love Captain Grey or Lord Grey. I don't love Captain Blackheart, either." She was about to storm out of the cabin when Christian entered. Leila crashed into his arms, almost falling over. He held her up and looked into her frightened face.

"Leila? Miss Williams? Are you alright." Christian redirected Leila's shaking body back to Ana who wrapped a motherly arm around her. He was grateful that his wife seemed to know exactly what to do.

"You knew she was a girl?" Ana hissed over her shoulder as she sat Leila down at the table. He supposed he had authored his own demise, but it wasn't what Ana thought. However, that didn't make it any easier to admit his sin of eavesdropping to his wife.

He shook his head. "I know now, although I suspected from the moment I took over the ship that she was a girl. As to her name, I listened at the door." Both women frowned at him and he knew he was in trouble. From the look on their faces, his explanation might not be assisting his cause. "I'm sorry. This is my ship and I like to know what's going on."

"You, Sir, like to have too much control." Ana scolded. Christian shrugged. "Well, did you hear the plan?"

"Most of it. Perhaps you would like to take me through it?" Christian directed his question at an open-mouthed Leila. God, she looked like a stunned mouse.

"Sir, I did not mean any…" Ana squeezed her hand hard and scowled at Christian. It was becoming very obvious to him that he needed to let her take the lead.

"No, you misunderstand, Leila. My husband actually wants you to explain the plan." Leila looked around in disbelief. Ana nodded and Christian grinned. His wife was taking over and he found himself more than willing to follow her lead. Her dominance and strength in this situation enticed him.

"But James would never…" Leila's voice tapered off and Christian became aware of the unspoken problem in the room. Leila had a more intimate knowledge of his cousin than he had first suspected. He wondered if they had made use of the various apparatus in the room for their…games. The image that flashed into his head was not of Leila but of Ana, tied to the bed or on her knees, and he had to suppress a groan.

"James?" Ana looked confused. Christian gave a grim nod, letting Leila know that he understood. Ana, however, would require a little more explanation.

"Mmm… James. My cousin. The _other_ Captain Blackheart. Well, at least when he isn't languishing in a French prison. That is what you were about to tell us, isn't it?" Christian crossed the room to the table and sat opposite Leila. She didn't answer, just looked at him. "Is that where he is, Leila? In the prison at Brest."

The silence hung in the air. Finally, her frustrated words were uttered, an indication that she had decided to trust him. A little. "Yes, Monsieur. He and some of his officers were captured trying to break into the prison a little more than two weeks ago."

Christian's hand balled into an angry fist. James was meant to be scouring the French ports for information, not going off on some half cocked rescue mission. With his ship, no less. "What the hell was he doing breaking into the prison?" Christian didn't quite yell but he certainly exuded enough force behind the question as to make both women jump. Ana's instinctive reaction was to lower her eyes, but Leila became agitated and angry as she rose and began pacing the room.

"That was my question exactly, Monsieur. But your cousin is a fool. He would not listen to me. No, no, no. The idiot man, he thought he knew better than a mere girl. He would take no notice of the information that I gave him and took matters into his own hands. I am sorry to be speaking out of turn, Monsieur but…"

"What information?" Christian's voice cut her short and Ana reached her hand out in an effort to calm him down. She was right to do so. It would not do anyone any good if the poor girl was frightened out of her wits. Mind you, she had been living on a ship for at least a week with a large group of men and didn't seem to be any the worse for it. He wondered if the timid mouse was an act. A very good act.

"I had the confirmation that Lord Kavanagh was in Brest and that he was going to be moved tomorrow. Only James, he did not think about the bigger plan, instead he went ahead and tried to break into the prison. Trying to be the hero, I suppose." Shoulders slumped in despair she turned away from the table wringing her hands with a slight tremor. The agitated stance made her appear far too emotional for this to simply be anger over not being heard. Christian wondered just what the relationship was between his cousin and this diminutive waif.

"Damn." Christian thumped his fist lightly on the table, not so much in anger but in frustration. It didn't stop her from jumping at the sound. "Where is the Ruby Queen, now?"

To her credit, the girl didn't hesitate to answer. "She is hiding in a cove to the north east of Brest. When he left against my advice, I ordered the rest of the crew to wait there and caught the first packet to London to find your brother. He told me where to find you and what to say to get aboard the Black Diamond." What the hell was Elliot thinking? Sending a girl to join his crew! However, the solid gut-punch came when Christian realised that this stick of female and given orders to his crew.

"But you had met James as Captain Blackheart." Ana leaned in, obviously as curious about their relationship as he. Leila regarded her with a little suspicion. Given that his wife had seemed ready to strip her hide earlier, he supposed Leila had a point. However, he was still getting over her giving his crew instruction.

"Yes, I have had many an occasion to meet him in the past." Many an occasion? This story got worse and worse. How many times had she been on the Ruby Queen? How often had his crew bowed to her command? Was he going to have an issue when he tried to board as Captain. He cursed his cousin for his reckless carousing. Leila's closed look stopped his inner monologue. It indicated that there were secrets this girl would not share easily. Christian admired that quality in her, even as she frustrated the hell out of him.

"So you tried to persuade him to wait and he didn't listen?" Ana continued the interrogation, which was just as well since Christian was finding it a strain to keep his emotions in check. Two women had managed to completely upend his world. He hadn't felt so out of his depth since Nicholas arrived in his life. Christian sent up a silent but non-malevolent curse to that particular woman, too.

"Yes, he is, how do you say? A mule. Stubborn."

Her petulant mouth, the hands on her hips and the stamp of her foot brought a smile to Christian's face. In fact, the chuckle in the pit of his stomach refused to be suppressed. Suddenly, Christian laughed, in a sudden release of tension. All their lives, Christian knew that James found it difficult taking orders from anyone, which was why he was so unsuited to naval life and completely at home as a spy. No, James would not have appreciated being bested by Miss Williams. Unfortunately, Leila did not share Christian's sense of hilarity at the situation and she scowled at him causing him to swallow his laughter. He schooled his face and tried to be serious.

"Yes, yes, that is James." A change of subject was in order. "So tell me about this plan."

For the next fifteen minutes, Leila described the town of Brest and the movement of the prisoners. Christian asked questions to clarify the route but determined very quickly that her plan had every chance of success. In fact, more chance than the plans he had been making with his men. The girl understood the layout of the town and the processes of the prison better than he and he would be foolish not to heed her advice. There was only one major problem with her plan that he could see.

"We need to eliminate the guards at the outer gate so that they won't follow the wagon." He drew his eyebrows together as he stood back from examining the maps. Ana also stood back a little while they talked but her expression stated that she had been thinking about exactly this problem. The guards needed to be distracted at precisely the right time with no risk that the inner guards or those on the wagon would think anything was amiss. This would take a special kind of distraction. Christian saw the consternation in her expression and waited for her to speak.

"Leila and I could do it." Ana looked at Leila who nodded an agreement. However, she could not bring herself to look at Christian. Given that she seemed to think that she was going into the town of Brest to risk her life, he thought that wise. He was not above throttling his wife and at this precise moment, he did not think he could keep that thought from his features.

"No." His tone brooked no argument, however, that did not matter to his wife. Without heeding his unspoken warning, Ana did not seem inclined to let him get his way.

"But, Christian, we can…" He raised his palms in front of his face, effectively silencing her.

"I said, No!" Slapping his hands down on the table, he leaned across with both hands firmly planted as he attempted to stare her down. Her lips thinned into a hard line before she shifted to mirror his stance, slamming her own palms down on the table.

"I see that arrogant, stubborn, pompous ass runs in your family." Ana leaned forward, giving him a glimpse of her creamy breasts over the top of the blue muslin. The tactic was patently unfair and extremely effective. The hardening of his cock didn't stop him from making one more futile attempt at shutting her up.

"I am your husband and my role is to keep you safe!" Even though he prided himself on level emotions, he found his voice was rising. His hands were white as he pressed into the table top.

"You will keep me safe. You'll be watching everything I do!" Ana was matching him for volume and tension as Leila backed away from the table. Smart girl.

"I will not put you at risk!" He walked around the table toward his wife who straightened her body to stand up to him. If the stubborn woman was not going to listen to him, he might just have to make her listen. At that moment, he wasn't above taking both of them over his lap for this stupidity.

"Why do you think you will fail?" Ana's question cut him to the quick. He was a man who struggled against the failures of his past. If he could not guarantee the situation would go in his favor, he did not take the risk. Which was why James had made the better Captain Blackheart in recent years. His cousin was prepared to take risks that Christian couldn't and wouldn't take. Ana's voice cut into his thoughts. "Christian, you and Taylor will be stationed here and here." Her finger pointed to the map. Then she indicated Leila. "And we will be working together, we will be perfectly safe."

Christian swallowed the heavy lump in his tight throat. If he said any more his voice would be choked with emotion. Was he letting his fear obstruct a good plan? Studying the map for a moment, he breathed deeply, with the sudden and uncomfortable knowledge that his wife may well be right. Leila and Ana kept perfectly still while he wrestled with his thoughts.

Finally, he breathed out a heavy sigh and sat back down at the table, motioning for the women to do the same. The plan made sense, and if Leila was capable of commanding his crew and Ana his body, then between them, they were more than capable of executing the only type of distraction that would be effective in this situation. The fear of having her anywhere near the prison choked at his pounding heart, causing sweat to bead on his lips and palms. However, he couldn't deny that theirs was likely to be the solution that would see Ethan safe aboard his ship by this time tomorrow.

With a sigh, he bowed his head for a moment and then raising his head said, "Alright. Tell me this plan."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you all so much for the love and support you are showing this story. A big shout out to GoBears for her generosity and lyrical analysis. Also to CG4Me who found my big error and was so very kind in quietly letting me know (I promise to go back and edit). My apologies to me betas for my impatience. I simply couldn't wait but I promise that if you see anything that needs changing, I will edit. There is bound to be something!**

**This chapter has a lot of risk in it and I would very much like your feedback. There was a danger that it would feel like an information dump. If it left you with that impression I would very much like to know. I was going for heightened pace and tension but it might have overshot the mark. I would also like to know if the Leila story needed to be extended over a couple of chapters for you. Finally, I am hoping that Christian's emotional turmoil and fear is coming through the humor. He is strong and capable but he also needs to be right. Did this work for you? **

**Hidden message in all of that is please review, please ask questions, please make suggestions. I have made so many small adjustments on the basis of your suggestions, guesses and questions so far that I can't begin to express my gratitude at how you are all shaping this story. There is a major future scene that I have completely re-evaluated on the basis of your reviews and I think it will be so much better. Thank you. Sasha xxx**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I have to apologise. I need to do a lot more research so this is full of issues in terms of the layout of the bagne (the prison), the streets of Brest and the possibility of them effecting this rescue given that Brest was a naval military port. If I am to publish this story I might have to rethink Brest as a location. I also can't quite get my head around the weaponry of the time, or which of the smaller, faster ships could actually transport horses and how many. While I have always known that historicals require a lot of research, it has been amazing, finding myself stalled by lots of little details. So I have made the decision to tell the story as best as I can and then go back and check the research when I edit the story properly. Thank you all, again, for the support, the thoughts, the questions. Please, please, please review. Sasha xxx  
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><p>The guard signaled down from the wall to open the first gate of the bagne. While the town was largely quiet, those few who loitered were generally a mix of the homeless, whores and soldiers. The slow and rusting sounds of chains grinding around pulleys echoed in the quiet cobbled streets. A drunk leaned against a wall, wrapped in a rough blanket his face shadowed by nightfall. Two whores wandered past him, drawing his eye. He watched them as they moved to the gates and began to flirt with the guards. His hackles went up when one of the guards reached out to lift one of the women's skirts. A roughened hand shot out and gripped his knee. The cripple lounging against the wall on the ground below him, had appeared until now, to be asleep.<p>

"Steady, lad. You don't want to put them in any more danger." Taylor spoke a very perfunctory and colloquial French. Useful in the streets, hopeless in the ballrooms. Christian slumped back, mumbling some incoherent, intoxicated and meaningless rant as he pulled out a weathered and beaten hip flask and threw down the contents. He wished he truly was drunk. Watching his wife flirt with another man set his teeth on edge. The fact that she was in mortal danger whilst doing so had his heart pumping hard. Despite his outward appearance, he was poised ready to close the distance in a few seconds and kill the men should they overstep his arbitrarily drawn bounds.

They watched without looking as the ladies laughed with the guards, enticing them to drink the wine they carried with them. The raffia bottle holder was passed from hand to hand, both guards drinking down liberal amounts as the girls draped themselves over their arms. When one of the men pulled Ana in for a kiss Taylor instinctively grabbed Christian again.

"Steady, lad, steady." Ana pushed away from his body with laughter but the burly guard wrapped a thick arm around her shoulder, pulling her back against his body as he whispered something in her ear. Christian felt his heart lurch as Taylor continued to hold him back. A low growl echoed in his chest as he denied himself the pleasure of running headlong at the reprobate and knocking the teeth from his mouth. If, he indeed had any. The tension in Ana's body was evident to him at this distance, as was the distaste on her face at what he imagined was the stale and rotten odor of the ogre's breath upon her perfect neck. Just as his restraint was about to snap, Ana said something indecipherable to her captor who released her, the lust clearly emanating from his ugly face. She turned back toward the guard with smoky laughter and began to dance, singing a lewd ditty that had him wondering where she had learned the words. Her dance became more overtly sensual as drew them into her web. Christian's body responded to the sultry tones of her voice as much as the flash of her booted ankles and the sway of her hips. Only, he wanted that dance, that song to himself, in the privacy of their room, not out here for everyone to see. The guards' laughter became slow and sanguine as their bodies began to sag. Leila directed the fall of their bodies behind the wall and out of sight and Christian finally released the breath he had been holding at the same time as Taylor's hand slackened its grip on his leg.

The signal was given, in a series of shouts, for the second gate to slide open. As it did, two of Christian's men unobtrusively slipped into the role of external gate guards, acting as though nothing was amiss, as the two women hurried along the along the road and disappeared from sight where it narrowed into an alley, running uphill and away from the prison.

Christian slid through the shadows to the turn in the road, just as the wagon emerged through the gates. From the hidden shelter of a doorway, he watched the wagon approaching the bend. The road was rough and strewn with mud and slurry, delaying the wagon's swaying progress. The agonizing wait heightening his anxiety and senses. Christian looked up the dark alley and silently urged the women to move further up the lane and out of sight. Once they were gone, he moved into position.

Covertly, he tried to make out the number of men in the wagon's cell. Six silhouettes were shrouded in darkness as the wagon rolled along the waterfront road. The cell itself was open to the elements and he cursed at the thought of how quickly the French weather changed at this time of the year. He imagined that Ethan might not be in the best of health after months, if not years of incarceration and a slow and arduous journey in an open cage across the French countryside might well kill him.

In addition to those who now herded the wagon through the lane, other members of Christian's crew had taken up strategic positions at various points in or near the vicinity of the prison. To the east of the lane, at the end of a dark path that wound between buildings, two men stood with enough horses waiting to whisk the crew and prisoners to freedom. Around a dark bend, out of sight of the jail and half way between it and the square, four men stood with guns and swords ready. They were under Christian's orders not to fire the guns in the night lest they alert the cavalry guard who would be busy mounting their horses in the square. The women stepped through between them and into a hidden courtyard, where they slipped out of their skirts, rolling the materials into bundles, revealing the men's clothing they wore underneath.

The imposter guards secured the outer gate of the prison in steely silence after the wagon disappeared from view, then hoisted the two unconscious men over their shoulders and followed as quickly, hugging the building as they went. They soon joined Taylor who made sure that no one unexpected followed them into the alley. Taylor glanced back at the prison walls and sent up a silent prayer that nothing had aroused their suspicions behind the great gated fortress.

In his hurry to move his men and their quarry beyond the gaze of the stone walls, he had failed to notice that they had almost caught up with the wagon's progress. The rear wagon guard noticed though and the movement of those following behind had been enough to cause him to try to send up a warning shout.

Taylor watched in horror as the man registered their approach. He broke into a run, trying to stop the man from giving them away. At the moment that the guard had thrown his head back and cupped his thick lips, Christian slipped out of the door way to the side and clamped a heavy hand over the man's mouth. Dragging him from the back of the wagon, he allowed the body to hit the ground before taking the man's head in an iron grip and slamming it against a stone wall, knocking the guard unconscious. The driver had neither heard nor felt a thing as Christian leapt aboard the wagon. Holding one finger up to silence the prisoners, Christian scaled the outside of the cage and made his way toward driver's blind side. At the same time, the wagon turned the bend and drove straight into the road block of Christian's men.

"Sacre…." Before the man could make another sound, Christian wrapped an arm around the man's neck and clamped a steely palm over his mouth.

"You will say nothing more, do you understand?" Christian hissed in French as the man who at first struggled, seemed to think better of it when one of the four crewmen leveled the barrel of his rifle at the man's head. Fear stalled the driver's response but Christian tightened his arm, choking the man slightly before eliciting a cooperative nod. Taylor arrived on the other side and pried the driver's fingers from Christian's arm before binding the man's hands together with a short rope. He then slid a cloth around his head to gag him as Christian released his grip. Once he was secure, Taylor took out a pistol and using the handle, knocked the driver unconscious.

While Christian and Taylor disarmed the driver, Leila and Ana had sneaked in behind and made short work of the locks, releasing the cell door that held the prisoners captive. The men were all dressed in the garb of the prison, their colored hats denoting that they were destined to be imprisoned for life. There were eight men in total, each one tethered to another by the ankle. Taylor had rummaged through the pockets of the unconscious guard and located the keys to release them and handed it through the bars to the men to effect the final part of their release. The more able bodied scrambled out immediately, leaving a slumped form in the arms of a shadowy giant who, Ana felt, had a familiar form and stature to her husband. James Grey, she presumed.

"Leila." James' voice cracked. "You're a sight for sore eyes. I knew you'd come for me."

"Shut up, you imbecile. I didn't come for you." Leila hissed as she indicated the other weaker man who rested in his arms. Stepping back to allow Taylor the space to remove Ethan from the cage, her next words were directed to the others. "You need to follow us."

A look passed between the prisoners but none of them hesitated, weak though they were, to heed her words. One of the larger crewmen went to Taylor's side to relieve him of his burden, hoisting a very dehydrated and emaciated Ethan over his shoulder before turning back to Leila. The women took the lead, and not a man hesitated to follow as they moved the small rag tag group through the hidden pathway between the buildings, out to where the horses waited. Christian had brought four horses aboard the ship but it was Leila who had been able to provide the information about where to find more cattle. It was one of the benefits of being in a military port and one of the risks. No sooner had they stepped out from between the buildings than there was a flurry of activity as each of Christian's men, mounted a horse and took one of the released prisoners up behind him. Within minutes they were flying over the cobbled roads to the eastern most wharf.

Taylor and Christian loaded the unconscious bodies of the three guards and the driver into the cage and locked it. Allowing enough time for the others to get a head start, the two men walked to either side of the team. When they judged that the others would have made it to where the horses were waiting, they slapped the wagon's horses on the rump, urging the team on, knowing that they had less than ten minutes to get to the the rendezvous point. That was how long they had estimated it would take the wagon, now without a driver, to make its way through what remained of the narrow twisting lane, to the square. If they were lucky, it might take the horse guard another ten or fifteen minutes past that time, to slow the team, work out what had happened and find their direction. It was a vague hope.

The pair ran as fast as they could through the pathway. Christian's heart clenched in his chest as he emerged from between the buildings to see that Ana had waited behind with the remaining horses. Her disobedience was causing him to have palpitations and he resolved, yet again, not to let her defiant actions go unpunished.

"What are you doing here? You should be half way back to the ship, by now." Fear for her safety flooded his senses and caused her horse to rear up. She fought for control of the great stallion finally bringing the beast to heel. She would not chance a further argument with Christian for fear of what the horse might do. That pleasure could wait until they were safely back aboard the ship.

Placing his foot in the stirrup that she kicked free, he swung up behind her. To her surprise, he passed the foothold back to her and let her take the reigns. She nudged the horse urgently with her boots and within minutes they were charging at full gallop through the city streets toward the ship, her husband lightly gripping her waist for balance.

They heard the shout go up from the square and the sound of hooves pounding the cobbled streets as their pursuers rushed after them. They were galloping along the winding road of the waterline, searching for the distinctive cone roofline of the Tour Tanguy. Although there was some obvious confusion while the cavalry guard picked up their trail, Ana didn't lose her nerve, steering the horse by the soft light of the moon. Christian kept an eye over his shoulder and tried not to show any panic as the guard began to close the distance between them.

Glancing over at Taylor, he saw the grim set of the other man's mouth. A message passed between them and Taylor moved ahead, ensuring that the horses kept a sound footing as they negotiated the uneven terrain. Christian cursed the state of the French roads but Ana showed no pause as she fell in behind Taylor's lead, keeping close to him on the trail. Nor did she give more than a quick glance behind her as she felt Christian take out his pistol and cock the hammer. Then he waited.

"Why don't you shoot?" She was panting, breathless, frightened. Taking action helped calm her so his inaction was playing on her nerves.

"I have one shot and they aren't within range. I can't take the chance." His left arm tightening around her waist was a comfort. Knowing he was taking aim at the shadows pursuing them was not. If he were aiming at them, then she was quite sure that they were aiming back. She dug in hard urging the great stallion to go faster as they headed down the slope toward the wharf.

The docks were mostly empty at this time of night as they thundered toward the ship, however, as a naval port, they had little doubt that pursuit ships would be mustered efficiently. The remainder of Christian's crew was ready and waiting to cast off as soon as they were aboard. Christian had to admire his wife's horsemanship as she deftly maneuvered the stallion across the walkway to the ship's deck only pulling up at the last minute by sheer force of will and the assistance of waiting hands. A shot sounded in the night, a bullet ripping through air to left of them as the deck hands moved the last of the horses below deck. The armed contingent of Christian's crew stood at the ready, taking careful aim. A yell rent the night air as one of the French guards went down.

Ana felt herself ripped from the saddle by Taylor who crouched protectively over her as they ran for the safety of the stairs. Once she had begun to descend he turned and raced back to Christian's side where he took shelter behind the deck railing.

"Take the helm," Christian yelled the instruction over the gunfire. "We will hold them off." Taylor nodded and worked his way back to the bridge. The orders were being obeyed before they were given as the ship's crew scrambled to get them away from the dock. The gunners had shifted the small canons into position and were causing the French guard to fall back. To the right of him, Christian saw James standing to take aim at a marksman who had taken up position forward of the line. His aim was true and the man went down but not before the guard had fired his shot, sending a ball straight into James' shoulder. Not a sound came from him as he hit the deck.

Christian and one of the officers from the Ruby Queen, dragged James clear of the action. Another of the crew rushed over, relieving Christian of the burden.

"Take him down to my cabin." Christian's orders were swallowed by another round of gunfire. The ship was now out of range of the French guards but the canons were still meeting their mark. Christian stood and watched as the dock grew more distant. He knew it would not be long before ships were sent after them. However, they would be at full sail and hopefully, an hour out of the port before the French could scramble into pursuit. While Christian did not relish a battle at sea under any circumstances, he felt it would be infinitely easier than being caught on foreign soil.

Once they were clear of the heads, Christian went to his cabin to check on his cousin, leaving Taylor in charge of the helm. He arrived to find his best brandy being imbibed as Ana and the ship's doctor tended to James' injury.

"Merely a flesh wound." James slurred from the chair.

"The ball passed clean through. The doctor is about to apply the needle," Ana stated, as she cleaned and swabbed around the open wound. "The big baby wouldn't permit the process while he was sober."

The smile belied her tension. The most impressive part was watching her acting as though she did this every day. Christian shook his head in disbelief as he turned away and noticed Leila skulking by the door. The look of distaste announced that she still had little time for his cousin and Christian wasn't so sure that the rebuff wasn't well deserved. James peered down the bottle at the woman, with such elemental longing that Christian nearly felt the full force of it in his gut. _So that was how it was_, he thought ruefully.

"Where is Ethan?" Christian cast an eye around the room with concern. God help him, he hoped that his friend hadn't been caught in the crossfire. The thought of losing him now after all these years of searching didn't bare thinking about. Ana looked up from her ministrations, her eyes full of such concern that he stilled for a moment. Finally, she returned to her task with a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head. Tipping her head to the side, Leila indicated that Ethan was in the next room, the one reserved for Taylor. Crossing the floor quickly Christian kissed Ana gently on the cheek before making his way across the small corridor to the room that held his friend.

As he entered the small space, he thought it first empty. The dim light from the candle sconce cast eerie shadows that danced on the walls. When his eyes adjusted, Christian saw the outline of a form, huddled on the floor in the corner of the room. He approached slowly, not wanting to frighten the man.

"Ethan?" No response except the visible shaking of emaciated muscles. Christian crept closer, his hands in front of his body, palms up in supplication. He intuitively wanted to pose no threat. Slowly, the weary head rose and empty eyes looked at him. "Ethan, it's me Christian Grey."

A spark of recognition, the voice of the distant past reaching through his haze. "Christian?" The dry, hoarse voice croaked under the strain of speaking. A hand reached out, filthy and scarred with cuts and bruising. "Where? Where am I?"

"You're safe aboard the Black Diamond, old friend." Christian crossed to the water jug and poured a small tankard of fresh water, then he walked slowly back to the corner and lowered himself to be at level with Ethan. The eyes of his comrade appeared so lost and empty. A heavy beard covered his soiled skin, while his head was shaved, making him seem even more ragged and small.

"Black Diamond." The husky whisper echoed off the walls.

"Yes, you've been lost to us for a long time. Here drink." Christian held the pewter cup to his friends cracked and dry lips. The first few sips became a ravenous series of gulps before Ethan choked out a cough. Christian slapped him gently on the back, then rubbed in broad circles, soothing him until his breathing was back under control. "Do you know how long you were in Brest?"

"Brest? I… I don't know. Months, I think." That didn't seem right to Christian, but then nothing about Ethan seemed right at this present time. He knew with certainty that he needed to get Ethan home and standing on English soil as soon as possible. God only knows what conditions he had been held in these past few years. The more he regarded the shadow of a man before him, the less likely he thought that any of the scurrilous reports of his actions in recent years could be true. Ethan looked like he might have gone ten rounds in a bout of fisticuffs but the reality was probably far worse.

"You've been gone for years, Ethan. Do you recall?" Ethan's eyebrows drew into a frown, his lips a tight grim line as he appeared to be trying to remember where the time had gone.

"No. No, I don't recall." He drew his knees up closer to his chest and held his head in his hands. Everything about him had gone into a pose of self-protection and Christian suddenly felt as though he might not be helping the situation. His questions and demeanor might come across as unintentionally intimidating, however, he also knew, with some certainty, that his friend was, if not lying, unable to recall the truth.

"I'm going to bring you a hip bath, my friend. We'll get you cleaned up and ready for home." Christian went to stand up and leave, thinking to give the man some space to adjust to his freedom, when a gnarled hand grabbed his arm.

"Home? To England?" Ethan's eyes suddenly burned brighter. More like the old Ethan. Christian nodded. "Haverstock. I must see Haverstock."

"All in good time, my friend. I will send message as soon as we cross the channel. Haverstock will come to you, I'm sure." He wasn't sure, at all. Haverstock was a spymaster, and as such, he hardly ever set foot out of London. However, Christian would send Taylor back to London on the Ruby Queen to pass the message on to Ethan's superior, with an open invitation to Trevelyan Grange.

Sailing through the night, the Black Diamond finally caught up with the Ruby Queen at the appointed rendezvous to the north of Guernsey. During the journey, Ethan had allowed himself to be bathed by Christian and shaved by Leila and now, with a change of clothing, resembled someone that Christian used to know. His friend was still painfully thin and his haunted green eyes lacked the luster and fire of the man he knew years ago. However, this more presentable Ethan was at least a start on the road to recovery and a welcome sight after all the years of wonder and worry.

Leila stood at the door, her face impassive as she took in the new and improved Ethan. Christian wondered what role the woman had really played in his friend's rescue. It seemed that she was better informed than any of Haverstock's network and Christian was confident that the person who stood in the doorway was a spy. Right now, he wondered which side she was really on but from the inscrutable set of her mouth, he thought perhaps she was, probably rightfully, on no one's side but her own.

Nothing was said between them before she stepped out into the corridor, her boots echoing toward the stairs. Christian turned back to regard Ethan and found that his friend had retreated behind his eyes. Tucking a rough blanket around him, he prayed that Ethan's dreams would be less haunted than his own. The feeling of dread at having to reveal the ghosts that haunted his own dreams to Ethan, had him hastily retreating from the room as he sought out the safety of Ana's arms.

If Ana had ever thought that piracy and the high seas were romantic, she was being disavowed of that notion rather thoroughly. The danger lingered in the air and crackled in the silences around them. James, who she feared was to fall into a drunken stupor, had become quite sober in the aftermath of his repair, his eyes wary and anxious at every shout coming from deck. He had been settled into the hammock that had until now been Leila's in the small alcove room outside the Captain's cabin. Christian had sequestered himself in the next room with Ethan, attempting to deal with the fallout of the young man's disorientation. Leila, who had hovered assisting where she could, seemed to have removed herself atop deck where apparently she claimed she felt more at ease. All of which left Ana to clean up the remains of the surgery that had taken place.

The door opened causing her to look up as Christian stepped inside. He was dishevelled and tired but beautifully defined in his shirtsleeves, having sloughed off his jacket the moment they had arrived back on board. Without hesitation she stepped into his arms, knowing that he needed to feel the warmth and comfort of her body, just as she needed his.

"God, Ana," he choked out, before pressing his lips to hers. The desperation inside the kiss hit Ana full force and she found herself rushing to catch up with his ardor. His hands stroked the outline of her back as if he reassured himself that she was indeed safe. His lips were at once warm and soft yet hot and demanding as his tongue swept inside her mouth seeking her own. After a few passion-driven minutes he eased back to look into her eyes. Another reassurance that she was both real and unaffected by the evening's events. "I was so…if you ever…my heart…"

His struggle to find words was endearing and she smiled. "You were frightened. So was I."

He scowled. "I was damn terrified and I have a good mind to punish you for the risks you took." Even though she was quite empathetic with his fear and anger, being punished was not on her list of activities for the remainder of the night. However, he was trembling in her arms so dramatically that her heart ached for him.

"Shhh…" she soothed, taking his face in her hands. "All went well and we are here. The worst is over."

"Is it?" His eyes closed in anguish and she knew her words, while well-meant, were naive. They still had an ocean of danger to navigate before safety was theirs and even then, she suspected that the demons of hell would chase all of them for a while longer. Her hands slid down to his chest, seeking out the assurance of his heart beating hard in his chest. "God, I need you."

Without hesitation, she pulled him back into the kiss, her hands reaching down and gripping his tight rounded buttocks like a harlot and pulling him firmly against her stomach. His firm erection pressed through the fabric making her moan into his mouth with lust. He picked her up to bring her heat level with his need and she wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her booted feet behind his back. The devouring motions of his mouth as he teased and tasted, demanded her acquiescence and affirmed his own need for her, caused her to cling even tighter to him. She could do no more than grip his neck and shoulders as he walked her back against the wall.

Using the wall to support along with the sheer animal strength of his well-muscled thighs, he raised her arms above her head as his mouth moved to her neck, her jaw, her ear. His kisses were less the love play of a husband and more the sampling of a man at his last meal. He lowered and raised her as he thrust against her body, the rigid heat teasing her, enticing her. There was nothing gentle in this exchange, no tender ministrations. His hand grasped her breast, massaging, kneading. The rip of her shirt didn't surprise her. With what little room for thought he would allow her, she understood that her clothes would be the victims in this battle.

The onslaught continued, his hands slipped down to her hips as he lowered his head to her breasts and continued to thrust against her, as he took great mouthfuls of flesh and sucked hard enough to leave red marks over her creamy skin. The intention to brand her was met with passion and understanding on her part. His need to claim was as great as her own and she all but held his head firm to her torso with each suckling bite, relishing his desire, feeling it flood through her veins, giving her strength. When his lips, tongue and teeth settled upon her areola, drawing in the puckered skin and the exquisitely hard nipple, she drew in her breath. When he bit and twisted she cried out and writhed in pain as a bolt of lightning hit firm in her lower belly, sending the tingle of sensation to her sex. He worked each nipple in turn, twisting it with his teeth and lips and then laving and soothing with his hot tongue. She squeezed the muscles of her hot, needy sex seeking out the edge but not being near enough to fall. As if he sensed her final desire, his large hand dived between the fabric of her trousers and stomach, pushing the overlarge waist down her hips until he could touch her moist, slick folds. One stroke of his long fingers was all it took and she cried out, her muscles pulsing around him.

No sooner had she started coming when he released the buttons on the placket of her trousers and dragged them fully down her legs. Then kneeling before her, he began to lap furiously at her folds, dragging his tongue through the pool of moisture and causing her to cry out with the sweet agony of her prolonged release. As he did so, he slipped the fingers of one hand into her warmth and pumped through the pulsing core while his other hand deftly removed one boot and the remainder of a trouser leg. Once the task was as complete as he needed it to be he stood and hoisted her up again whilst pressing his mouth against hers, forcing her, inviting her to taste herself on his tongue. Walking across the room, he moved, not to the bed but to the large table still covered in maps and rested her buttocks on the edge. Without releasing her tongue, he reached out and swept the debris onto the floor with his hand and lay her back.

Suddenly, he stepped back from her, removing the heat of his body. She lay there, her linen shirt ripped and rendered useless, hanging open to reveal the small bodice that no longer held her breasts in check. They, hot and heavy and stiff with the excitement of the lust reflected in his eyes, stood proud and heaving with each ragged breath. She was naked from the waist down except for the lower part of her left leg where the one remaining boot held her trousers in place. Neither of them cared much for her disarray. Christian swept his black shirt off with one swift tug over his head, then made short work of the placket, lowering his trousers to his knees and revealing his long, hard, jutting erection. Taking his cock in one hand, he stroked down its length as his other hand returned to her moist folds and in wonderously synchronised movements he pumped them both. Ana's tongue snaked out and licked her lips, announcing her craving. She sat up and grasped his erection licking the cream around the head of his cock before engulfing his stiffness with her hot mouth. He groaned and she pulled, sucking hard up the length. It was more than he could take. He pushed her back and then turned her over so that she lay flat on her stomach across the table.

For a moment, Ana was unsure of what to do, of what she had done to end their play, when he leaned over her body, covering her with his tensely muscled torso.

"Hold on to the edge, little one." The urgent words growled in her ear demanded her obedience. Her hands reached across the table and gripped the edge and then his body was gone but only for a moment. His hands pressed her legs wider, then lifting her hips slightly, he positioned himself at her entrance. With little more than a nudge of announcement, he thrust hard inside her, sheathing his cock with her wet heat until she could have sworn he was hitting her stomach. The shock of his angry thrust was replaced by the sweet fullness of having her man exactly where she needed him. She gripped harder as he began a leisurely pull out, preparing herself for what was to come.

"I want to fuck you hard, Ana." Although his language shocked, it also titillated. His voice was tense, the words a plea and an apology. She had time for neither.

"Do it. Fuck me hard, Christian. Please."

He needed no further invitation. His aching cock would allow him to do nothing other than push and pump and thrust into her, taking her with all the strength he had. She cried out with the onslaught as her stomach hit the edge of the table, painfully. Then she worked out that she could push back, should push back for all she was worth. He delighted in her pink and pert ass thrusting back up in the air at him, driving him on, meeting him pound for pound as he hammered his anger, his fear, his lust, his love and desire into this waif of a woman. Into this angel from heaven. Into his strong and beautiful and sensual wife. He had no doubt she could take all he had to give and so he gave and gave, his pelvis crashing into her buttocks, drawing out all the moisture and pleasure she could give him. The smacking and slapping sounds of their fucking, as bodies crashed repeatedly like pounding waves on the rocks, was accentuated by the rolling tumble of the ship, the creaking of wood and steel and their own heavy moans. She urged him on, hastening the rhythm, building the speed, driving him to the very precipice of his need and just as he was about to find that sweet release he reached for her hand and pulled both his and hers between her legs and with fingers combined tormented the juicy hard nub of clitoris until she too cried out her orgasm into the night.

"Ana! Oh, fuck, Ana!" Christian pounded and pounded on, his seed spilling and filling her in hot, steaming waves of pleasure and pain. She screamed of some deity or another before they both collapsed on the table, his weight a comfort to her, the only thing, she was sure, that held her to this earth. Their breathing came in hot pants, their sweat slickened bodies stuck together with the wetness of her shirt.

In the next room, his body wracked with feverish pain, James stared up at the ceiling wishing he was anywhere but here. He should be relieved that Ethan was safe, no thanks to his stupidity. He should be thankful that Christian had found something or someone who had convinced him to push past his fears of failing in this prolonged battle to release men and women who had so valiantly given their lives and safety for King and country. More importantly, he should be on his knees worshiping at her feet for not giving up even when he had so arrogantly told her she was wrong. Only he knew, that her persistence was about proving that she was right and nothing to do with any feelings she might harbor for him. Turning his head toward the wall and trying to shut out the sounds his cousin and his wife were making in their ecstasy, he didn't see the shadows move at the door.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Dearest, most patient and loyal readers, reviewers and friends. Thank you for waiting. I am so very sorry that I have taken so long to update and I apologise profusely for not even find the time to answer your beautiful messages of support after Chapter 15. I have a tendency to be an all or nothing kind of person, in RL and in writing, so I needed to know I could spend some concentrated time on writing this chapter, especially as we are heading into the home straight of Ana and Christian's story. I hope you like this. I hope it is worthy of you all. As always, I would like to thank my betas, this week Colleen and Wattle helped reassure me that this was up to scratch and the beautiful Vanessa sat ready to talk and read and ask those critical questions that help me to make each chapter a little better. Of course, ladies, it is a little different from the version you read because that is the way I roll ;). So, post the excitement of the trailer release (which I love - don't you?), here is Chapter 16. I hope you enjoy. And if you haven't lost complete faith in me, please review. Love to you all, Sasha xxx**

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><p>Slicing through the inky swells, the ship made good progress out through the heads and into open ocean. They hugged the coast as they rounded the northwestern tip with the French navy was in close pursuit, bearing down fast upon them as they made the northeast run to Guernsey. As their pursuers grew closer, Christian left Ana to right herself, and rejoined the crew on deck, taking charge of the helm. To her chagrin, when Ana went to check on her patients, James had already left his bunk. His shadowy guardian angel, Leila, was not far behind, throwing herself into the task of hauling ropes as James took over directing the gunners. Christian shouted orders from the helm, preparing the crew for an engagement that never quite came. The French ships were fast but the Black Diamond was faster, outrunning the armada at the heads of Roscoff. The Black Diamond's crew didn't rest until they had rounded the northern coast of Guernsey some hours later and reached their appointed rendezvous with the Ruby Queen.<p>

Below deck, Ana sat on the floor of Taylor's cabin with Ethan, holding the young man's hand as he cringed with every shout and creak from above. The trembling of his body caused her heart to ache. As the noise began to die down, she coaxed Ethan to place his head in her lap and she stroked his face until he fell asleep. His body was thin but he had obviously found ways to keep his muscles as strong as possible during his incarceration. Whatever was concerning him, she was certain that his fears were exacerbated by feeling the ominous closeness of the French coast. The sooner they got him back to English soil the better. Relaxing back against the wall, she eventually drifted off to sleep.

When Christian finally found her there in the wee small hours, he felt his throat close. His beautiful wife had proved her competence, playing her role with alarming confidence in the rescue, keeping calm in both pursuit and in the face of injury. Now she was lending her strength to his broken brother-in-arms. If there had ever been any doubts in his heart, she was quickly and efficiently removing them. So effective was her campaign that he feared the moment when she realized that their recent love-making might run the risk of a pregnancy. He had had Louisa pack the supplies that Andrea had given Ana but he was quite certain that his wife had not yet found them and he, for reasons he could not quite justify, had forgotten to mention them.

After settling Ethan under blankets, away from Ana, Christian bent to scoop her up in his arms. Keeping her body tucked close to his, he carried her gingerly through to the cabin, trying not to rouse her. She had spent the last hours taking care of everyone and now he would care for her. The stripping of clothes from her body caused her to stir with a sleepy smile.

"Are we safe?" Eyes barely focused on his, her relaxed stretch gave no sign of fear. As if she expected that he should have complete control of the situation.

"For now, it appears so." He continued to help her to strip and tucked her carefully under the blankets before removing his own clothes and joining her. It was only an hour or two before dawn and he needed to recoup but he did not think he would sleep. Her chilled body pressed back, seeking warmth as it molded against his. He draped an exhausted and aching arm over her waist, hoping to drift.

"Is James alright?" He grinned at the husky sleepiness of her voice. That tone could wake his tired body instantly, if he let it. But she needed sleep, even if he couldn't.

"Yes, he's fine." She made a sound of disgust. "You wouldn't have been able to stop him. He started bleeding again but Leila has redressed the wound." The almost imperceptible rigidity of her body told him she not angry as much as worried about her patient.

"She's in love with him, you know." It was a statement of fact, however, Christian did not think it would bode well for Leila.

"James is a hard-headed fool. He will sabotage his own future." All in the name of playing pirates. Christian hoped that as they had Ethan safely on his way home, and the war was finally ended, there would be no requirement for the continued services of Blackheart. However, history stated that James would not give up his alias so easily. He would determine new and more dangerous excuses for extending the game. And Haverstock would, no doubt, be his enabler.

"Then perhaps we should do something to help him get out of his own way."

"You are plotting." He kissed her hair. If he had learned anything in the past forty-eight hours, it was that his wife was as much of a strategist as he.

"I am. Will James go back to London?" He had mulled over the best course of action from here as they had outrun the French ships, trying to decide what would benefit Ethan the most. While it would be tempting to return Ethan straight to his seat and announce to London that the Earl of Ravensthwaite had made a triumphant return. However, they were certain that the threat would multiply with his return and he would need to be fighting fit to have a chance to combat his enemies. Whoever they might be. No, it made sense for James to take the Queen back to London while he took the Diamond, and Ethan, back to Faversham.

"Yes. I will be sending him with a missive." Christian did not hold much hope that Haverstock would come to Trevelyan Grange but he hoped that James would be able to persuade the spymaster that Ethan could not yet enter London.

"Well, then, that's settled." Ana yawned and before drifting off to sleep, outlined the skeleton of her plan and the role she wished Christian to play. He was not surprised by her desire and ability to plan and execute that plan. No, what surprised him was finding that he trusted her judgment.

The sun's first rays streamed through the window kissing her forehead as she slept. Exquisite, from the cultured arch of her brow to the soft pout of her lips. His desire hit with full force, demanding satisfaction but he held back. The entirety of the past few days had exhausted her, but it was the memory of their sexual encounter last night that brought a concerned smile to his face. She was badly in need of more rest and her body was likely sore as a result of his animal passions. Somehow, he would apologise for taking such liberties and that would start with leaving her to sleep.

Checking that the blankets were firmly tucked around her body, keeping the chill at bay, Christian quickly dressed and went out on deck. James was head bowed in low discussion with Taylor as they pulled alongside another ship; the sleek low-bellied Diamond was dwarfed by the magnificence of the swollen hull of the Ruby Queen. The conversation on deck temporarily ceased, as the crew carefully weighed anchor and tethered lines bringing the boats close enough to transfer James and the other rescued officers across to the Ruby Queen.

Turning to face his cousin, Christian noted that James had his arm carefully wrapped in a sling against his body, protecting him from any undue movement that might disrupt the wound. Obviously, this was something that Leila had fashioned for him. Other than that, James looked remarkably well, his exuberant demeanor evident in spite of the pain he must still be feeling.

"Where is that vicious harridan you call a wife?" James' teasing brought an easy smile to Christian's face. He would not take the bait.

"I want you to take the Queen back to London. You need to let Haverstock know what has happened." The unspoken was that this message could not be passed on in any other fashion than face to face. Ethan's life depended on complete discretion.

"Are you sure about this, cousin?" James asked, his face twisted in an arrogant smirk. "You could captain your fine ship up the Thames and be hailed a hero for returning our fallen comrade home."

In other circumstances, that statement would have made him uncomfortable. Coming from James, he understood the tease behind his words. The thought of taking back his ship and crew and sailing Ana back to the safety of home was tempting but Ethan's welfare was foremost in their minds. Christian chuckled at the irony, in spite of himself. His cousin would not maliciously hurt him but his humor came to the fore at the most inappropriate moments, however, this was not unusual. James had been known to pull the pigtails of little girls when they had all been young lads as well. The man had tame boundaries and little filter.

"You and I both know that will never happen. The only person who will welcome Ethan home is his sister. While he is still weak, he is a target and we have yet to discover who has done this to him." Christian's initial smile was quickly replaced by a grim line. "How was he when you found him?"

"Beaten. Weaker than I would have liked. Unable to tell us anything about what had happened to him."

"Unable or unwilling." Christian worried his lips with his fingers.

"I don't know. He seems intent on speaking with Haverstock."

"All in good time." James heard the reticence in his cousin's voice. Christian carried far too much guilt about Ethan for his liking.

James shook his head wondering if his cousin would ever really be happy and proud of all he had achieved. Many thought his standoffish nature to be its own form of arrogance. James, and others who loved Christian, knew better.

"I have every hope that you will be able to get him to talk." James grimaced as he tried to flex the fingers of his injured arm. "You will need to tell him all that has happened since he left England."

"Yes, and bear the consequences of that conversation." There was bitter edge to Christian's voice that alarmed James.

"Christian, this is a time to let the past go. You will take Ethan back to Trevelyan Grange and bring him back to health and all that needs to be, will be forgiven." While James and Elliot truly believed this and had discussed it often, it was clear from the pain in Christian's eyes that he did not. A movement to their left caught his eye. Ana had emerged on deck, fresh and smiling, clad in a simple dress.

James sauntered toward her with a broad grin and gallantly bowed over her hand. "Lady Anastasia. I do believe I owe you an apology for my half-witted, pain-addled rantings last night. I am a poor patient."

Ana returned his smile with one raised eyebrow. "I do not think your wits were addled with the pain as much as they may have been drowning in my husband's brandy, Sir," she smoothly replied.

James' hand went to his heart. "You wound me, Madame." Then he winked. "Although, I will say that the brandy was inordinately effective."

With a laugh she glanced around, noticing the scowls that came from both Christian and Leila. The latter stood some distance away, coiling a rope with angry flicks of her hands. Christian might have been a little miffed at the easy banter but Leila looked like she was ready to cry. Or lash out in a jealous rage.

"Excuse me, Sir." Ana pulled away from James and walked toward Christian. Without pause, she tipped her head up to kiss him and he was powerless to resist, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "Good morning, husband. Thank you for letting me sleep."

Christian smiled into her hair but then lifted his head, sending a warning glare at a broadly grinning James, who helled both hands up in supplication as he stepped back from the happy couple. His face, the picture of mortification and innocence mixed with devilry and merriment, made Christian smile, knowing that his cousin was as much a rogue and scoundrel as his brother but it was all good-natured fun where his wife was concerned. There was no competition for her favors here. Christian had branded her has his and his band of brothers knew it.

Ana felt his body relax beneath her touch and was grateful that, in this short time that they had come to know each other truly as man and wife, she seemed to have this effect on him. If that was all she could offer him then she was prepared to do so with mundane consistency.

Pulling out of his arms, she placed a hand on Christian's chest and looked up at him. "Now, my love, play nice with your cousin." She grinned and with a saucy flick of her skirts that brought on a sigh from both men, she walked over to the still frowning Leila. Weaving her hand through the other woman's elbow, she pulled her away from the task that she was hardly performing with any effectiveness. "Walk with me."

The two women made their way down the length of the deck, away from the men's ears.

"Is it so very difficult?" Ana asked, finally.

Leila frowned at her. "Is what difficult, m'Lady?"

Ana didn't break their stride but she held a hand over her eyes and glanced up at the men climbing in the rigging above them. "Loving James Grey."

"I do not…"

"Piffle." Ana halted Leila's next words. "Blind Freddy could see that you are in love with that man. Although, given his many charms, it is a wonder why." They arrived at the railing and dropped arms to hold the wooden balustrade.

"You are mistaken, M'Lady. I have no feelings for James Grey. He is a thorn in my side, a pebble in my shoe; nothing more, nothing less."

"It is strange how we can learn to love the pain." Something flashed in Leila's eyes just before she cast her eyes down. Interesting. "Perhaps I am wrong, I am often wrong about affairs of the heart, after all. You know that I resisted my feelings for Christian. I had no idea what to do with all of that…emotion. It has been the most annoying, unseemly and disconcerting thing. In fact, I am still learning."

"M'Lady, I do not know why you would tell me such personal things. Mr Grey and I had a business arrangement. That is all it was. It would seem that this arrangement is about to come to an end."

"Is it?" Ana tipped her head to the side as she regarded the woman.

"Yes, and I am glad of that. I hope never to have to see the man again."

"And yet, you will board the Ruby Queen with him."

"An inconvenience, I assure you. I need to get to London and he will make that happen."

Ana glanced back at James and wondered.

"Do you have plans once you reach London?"

"I need to make myself known to… someone. And then…" Her voice trailed off. Lifting a hand to guard her eyes against the sun, Leila looked out to sea. She seemed lost, leaving Ana to wonder about her secrets. Neither James nor Leila had been particularly forthcoming on how they had met and the little history Ana had gleaned from Leila's conversation and demeanor hinted at a painful past.

"I don't mean to pry but what happens then?"

Leila dropped her hand and her eyes, both movements punctuated with a small shrug of her shoulders. Her small wipe of her eyes would have been missed by most. Ana noted the despair in the set of the other woman's upper body. Ana knew a little of what it meant to suddenly be cast adrift in a society. The more she thought about it, the more she understood that they all seemed to have this in common. It gave her hope that Leila would listen to her proposition. She took Leila's hands in her own, forcing the young woman to look at her.

"Leila, I want to secure your services." Leila gave a confused frown that Ana mistook for resistance. "I can pay. I will make it worth your while." At least, she thought Christian would pay. They hadn't exactly agreed on the sums but James was his cousin, after all.

"What is it that you want me to do?"

"It occurs to me that James will need to recover. He might think he is capable but that injury has done more damage than he knows. It will need special care and exercise and no man can be trusted to take care of such things with any degree of certainty. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but you are a mercenary soul and the money will be worth your while, I promise you that. I should like you to remain with him while he recuperates."

Leila's mouth dropped open. "But he will sail to London and go back to his life. There will be no place for me in those arrangements."

"Yes, there will. Christian and I would like to offer you a retainer as a paid companion. You will be nurse, secretary, whatever James requires. Just until his wound recovers. At this moment, he has lost use of his arm. While there is no reason why it should remain so, there is always the risk that the pain will cause him to protect its use and therefore cause the muscles to atrophy. Or worse, he should neglect the wound and let infection set in. This cannot be allowed to happen." Ana had no doubt that James would not rest on his laurels in this regard, but in the end the injury was a catalyst rather than a restriction. While she and Christian had not exactly discussed every aspect of this 'situation' before they fell abed in the wee small hours of the morning, she felt no doubt that they were in agreement that this plan of action, throwing the two together, might resolve whatever tension there was between James and Leila. Not being one for matchmaking, Ana had hesitated to make the suggestion overtly to Christian. However, he had once explained how James had, for all his life, been wandering. A man cut loose without benefit of a father and a mother who did not know how to make her son act more socially acceptable. The thought that James had spent much of his life trying to emulate a father he had never really known, had spurred Ana on to plan a way to keep Leila close to James. Yes, the Leila situation needed resolution.

Ana looked back at the two dark-haired men, with their steel gray eyes and the sunlight glinting off the copper tones of their tousled and unruly hair, and was astounded at how alike they were. James was darker in hair color and complexion than Christian, but anyone would think them brothers, not cousins, and one would be forgiven for thinking that they might in fact be twins. Her mind went back to the little boy from her dreams and she had a vision of exactly what these two would have looked like in their youth. Their mothers must have had the devil of a time telling them apart as they ran amok in the grounds of Bellevue, their older brother the ringleader of their errant games and their younger sister tormented and protected by their bond. An ache formed in her heart as she imagined that vision of family for herself and in that same moment she felt her stomach roil with a bile as her mistake hit her full force.

Suppressing the need to talk with Christian, she turned to Leila, and tried to effect some sort of control over her features. "So, will you take the assignment?" Leila did not look convinced. "When I married my husband, I vowed to love and protect those he loves. James is as much brother as cousin and his love for him is fiercely protective. I cannot watch over James while he is in London and I will need you to be my eyes and ears."

Leila's mouth seemed twisted with bitter distaste as she mulled the proposal in her mind. For a moment, Ana thought they had read the situation incorrectly and far from wanting to spend time with James, the young woman was about to turn away.

"I will be his paid whore?" In that one question, Ana understood her reservations. This was something with which she could deal. The young woman threw her shoulders back and peered down her proud Parisian nose at Ana. The fight, the pride, was promising. James would not ride roughshod over this girl, and nor should he. Ana could see that she was a woman of worth, even if James thought her only a dalliance. Christian assured her that he saw something of a longing in his cousin. She prayed for his sake that James would not stumble or he would find himself trampled beneath Leila's feet. However, the girl need reassurance in this moment and Ana already had a plan for that.

"Good gracious, no. The payment will remain secret between you and I. No. You might be the same age as I, but you can pass for younger. You shall be his ward. The daughter of an old friend of his father's. A diplomat." Leila cast an accusatory glance at Ana that was slightly unsettling. After a moment she seemed to see something in Ana's face that calmed and reassured her. Pushing on, Ana tried not to lose her courage. "As far as society is concerned, you shall be under his protection, when in fact, he will be under yours."

Leila looked at where James was standing with Christian. The heat in her eyes was tinged with sadness. There was trepidation in her next question. "H-how will you convince him of this?"

Ana patted her hand. "Don't you worry. Christian is dealing with exactly this problem right now."

They glanced down the length of the boat at the duo once again, who were standing, heads bowed in conversation. At that moment, James threw his one good hand in the air and began pacing back and forth, while Christian stood still as a statue and watched him. A few words were cast back and forth between them but the wind swallowed the sound before they arrived at the women's ears. All they could tell was that James was agitated at the nature of Christian's suggestion until Christian finally grabbed his arm and made a final plea. Defeat descended on the set of James' shoulders as he gazed at Leila and she back. The flare of heat and longing and desire was so evident to Ana that she almost had to look away. Instead, she focused on Christian who raised an eyebrow at her. Finally, James nodded and turned his back on them.

"It looks like he has agreed." There was concern in her voice that she knew she wasn't hiding completely. James had obviously acquiesced to Christian's request but he was far from happy. Spreading a bright smile across her face she turned her attention back to Leila. "Now… you will have to attend social events. I shall ensure that James takes you to the right modiste. I am sure that I can have the Duchess of Carrick sponsor you and if you should have need of a dance master or…"

"There is no need, Ana." Leila held up a hand and Ana's eyes widened at the use of her first name. Something in Leila's stance had changed to one of regal bearing, quite different from the pirate-cum-spy that she had presented so far in their dealings. "I am the granddaughter of a Prussian Comte, step-daughter of an English earl and schooled enough not to embarrass your family in the ballrooms of London."

An hour or so later, Ana's eyebrows were still raised in surprise, as James, the officers and Leila had all disembarked and transfered to the Ruby Queen and set sail for London. Now, the Black Diamond was cutting a path through the waters towards the Southeastern coast and the inlets of Swale.

She was perfectly still, looking out to sea, a silhouette against the setting sun. Christian stood firm, hesitating to approach and break her reverie. He hoped that whatever troubled her had nothing to do with a delayed reaction to the danger she had found herself in last night. After years of fighting the in the war against France, this was a reaction he knew all too well. When she finally turned around and faced where he was standing at the helm, he had to take a deep breath. She was magnificent, her blue eyes blazing with strength and promise. A pink flush in her wind-kissed skin. The errant strands of her thick, lush hair, whipping her cheeks and neck. Whatever had been troubling her, there was resolution in her face. He wanted to go to her but he waited.

Her strident and purposeful walk to his side was cause for alarm and celebration, the dichotomous emotions traveling side by side through his being as efficiently as a well-heeled and perfectly trained pair of horses pulling a racing curricle. Another example of all that he loved about her and a reminder of that day when she had invaded his soul in the same way she had invaded his cabin on the Ruby Queen. She had taken his breath away on that occasion as well, her innocence and fire blending into the perfect storm on his heart. Something was definitely on her mind and he suspected that he was about to discover what. He signaled to Taylor who took over at the wheel as he stepped into her path.

"We need to talk." She hardly looked at him as she strode past him and through to the stairs. Without hesitation he turned to follow her, ignoring the chuckle from his first mate as he did so.

They were secured inside the cabin with the doors closed but she had not said a word, choosing instead to walk the walls, inspecting the exotic prints. He watched her without speaking as she turned her head this way and that. Moving in close to one engraving, she frowned in her careful study and then stepped away.

"I like this one the most." She finally announced. He moved to see which one she had chosen. It was a picture where the female was sitting astride the male who lay back on the bed, their bodies in coitus. "While I have enjoyed everything that we have done, I think I felt the most powerful and in control in this one. I liked that feeling of control. It gave me some insight into the way you think. And most of all, I liked the way I could read your face. We were partners in love."

For one horrific moment he thought this was about last night. She was prone and helpless in their lovemaking, nay, their coupling, last night. Unable to move, unable to see him, she had ceded all power and control to him. It had been all animal power and little in the way of seductive finesse but he had needed it as much as he had needed to breathe. He needed to explain but struggled to find the words.

His silence made her turn. "Don't misunderstand me, Christian. I was in awe of last night. I enjoyed your… how did you put it? Ah, yes…. 'Fucking'…I believe the word was. Yes, I enjoyed it all immensely and would happily engage in that again." A frown appeared as she bit her lip in consternation. "Although, I should like it with a little less danger as the foreplay."

"You have developed a dirty mouth, wife." Delight coursed through him when his words made her cast her eyes down and a blush to creep up her neck. Slowly, he moved in closer, reminding himself that she had an issue to discuss even when that lip-biting made him harden with desire. He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. "I love your dirty mouth… your smart mouth…your mouth." He kissed her more thoroughly to prove his point. The moist warmth of her lips urged him on, deepening and taking from her until she had to pull away to catch her breath.

"I had a revelation earlier. It has somewhat unsettled me." Her hands had wrapped around his shoulders as she whispered into his neck. He loved the heat of her breath as it teased his skin. She was, however, far from relaxed in his arms. The trouble was coming.

"Are you going to tell me of this revelation or keep me guessing?" One hand stroked her hair, while the other tended to her back, trying to settle her. This was not having the effect he had hoped. It took a few more moments for her to speak her mind.

"Since we have been on the ship we have hardly kept our physical love at bay." He stilled for a second, suddenly knowing exactly where this was going. For her part, Ana seemed somewhat unable to look at him. "It has only just occurred to me that I have not taken any precautions with our love."

Christian stiffened as she went to pull away from him but he held her close, refusing to release his grip. This had occurred to him on the first night but he was damned if he was going to mention it to her and frighten her from her sexual awakening. His beautiful wife was proving to be his match in the bedroom and in life and for that he was eternally grateful.

"Ana if this is about your mother…" her finger halted his next words as she shook her head.

"No. Please don't bring my mother into our bedroom. It is unseemly." A smile from her brought a wry chuckle from him. At least she was not going to lose her sense of humor over this. "I have not protected my body against the possibility of children."

"Does this trouble you?" He offered up a silent prayer.

"Not as much as I had thought it would. I'm sorry, you must think me fickle and stupid. It is a great risk that our children will inherit the madness and yet, I find I cannot regret the possibility that we might have actually created a child. It is confusing and somewhat disconcerting. I was so sure that I would never want a child and then I was watching you and James and wondering how your mother coped with you all as children. It must have been wonderful."

Christian smiled. "I'm sure she would tell you some tales that would make you think otherwise."

"Yes, as all mothers can, no doubt. Am I being so completely selfish that I should want that for myself, regardless of the risk?"

Christian paused, unsure what the right thing to say would be. He opted for a version of the truth as he understood it.

"Ana, I have some education in such things and I believe that you might be wrong. About our children and your mother. Of course, I do not know her well enough, but the time she spent at Bellevue for the wedding gave me enough cause to suspect that the doctors assessments that you spoke of might be wrong."

"But they are men of science…"

"And not infallible. I wondered about the papers that you have read and if there are others that refute their wisdom. I am simply not convinced that what you have been told is completely accurate."

Ana frowned, her body went rigid in his arms and then she pulled away from him and faced back to the picture. After a moment of silence she quietly asked, "You read the papers? How do you know what papers I have consulted?" Christian found himself unable to speak. She whirled on him and thrust a finger into his chest. "How did you know, Christian?"

He stepped back, not because he wanted to but because he had to, with the force of her actions. Again, the truth seemed both the right and the wrong thing.

Eventually he said, "Your father told me." She was about to explode with rage and he had to protect her relationship with her father, at all costs. "You have to understand that he was worried about you. Not that you were falling victim to a madness but that you had believed the information that had been given to you. Ana, did you ever think about where that information had come from?"

"Of course, I did. The doctors who diagnosed her had given it to our agent and he had delivered them to us…" The light dawned in her eyes. "Hyde? He did this?"

Collapsing down on a chair, Ana clasped her hand over her mouth. Christian moved to kneel before her. Should he tell her the rest? About the agreement he had made with her father? He wanted complete honesty in their relationship, he craved that. But would he drive a wedge between father and daughter? Sir Raymond had demanded his agreement in good faith, believing that abstinence was the best course. Would Ana feel the same? Somehow, given the way that she had quickly and effectively allowed her sensuality to surface on board this ship, he sincerely doubted that she would see it the same way. In fact, he suspected she would see him strung from the mast by his testicles. Which was why he felt the blood drain from his face on her next words.

"I will kill him." The quiet malice in Ana's words hit him full force. "I will wrench his heart from his chest with my bare hands and throw it on the ground before I stomp on it with my riding boots. That weasel has tried to have his way one too many times."

No, now was definitely not the time for absolute truths. Christian quite liked his father-in-law and he was inordinately fond of his own private parts.

"Darling, I hope for my sake that you will never do that. I could not entertain the notion of a life lived without you should they cart you off to Newgate." The sharp look she threw his way caused him to change tack. "I do agree that the 'weasel' needs punishment and I am sure that it will come."

"I shall simply have to hire Blackheart to rescue me." Ana quipped with a smile before a serious look settled over her face. "I cannot believe that he has done this damage. My heart is terrified to think of the ways he might be taking advantage of his position. I begged my father to get rid of him years ago but the man has been impossible to shift."

"Ana, my father and Elliot are ensuring that Hyde loses whatever control he has over your father's estate as we speak." At her horrified look, Christian added, "They're doing this at your father's request. I am sure that we can extricate him from the family sooner rather than later."

"And you didn't think to tell me any of this?" The narrowing of her eyes caused Christian a moment's pause. A knock on the door halted any more explanation. A member of the crew entered, placed a tray of food on the table and left as silently as he had arrived. When the door closed, Christian lifted the cloche to reveal a plate of cured meat, cheese and bread. Ana scowled as he pushed the food toward her.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry." She crossed her arms, defiantly resisting him.

With a deep breath, he reached out and gently released tightly wound hands and offered up the assortment of food again. In a tone that brooked no argument he instructed her again, "I said, eat."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I'm posting au naturale this week. My betas will probably slap me but they'll love me anyway. If you see any errors please let me know. Thank you all, as always, for the wonderful support and encouragement. Please leave me a message to let me know the loose ends that you want to see tied up. I'm hoping there won't be too many but I'm relying on you all to be my eyes and ears on this one. Please note, it was expected that men of Carrick's standing would take a mistress during this era. I'm confident that Grace' feelings about Ella would have been entirely possible given what was acceptable in this historical period. Sasha xxx**

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><p>The call had gone out that the Black Diamond was heading back up the coast and the villagers set about getting wagons down to shoreline under cover of darkness. A misdirection had been issued to the excise men, who all found themselves waiting in Dover for boats that never arrived to the remote coves dotted along the cliffs. By late evening the ship had been secured and the last of the crew and cargo ferried to the beach with a few of the local men carrying Ethan between them, through the tunnels to the house.<p>

Christian was aware soon after their arrival at the house that things were not as they should be at the Grange, which was both a blessing and a curse. It seemed that the entire family, his and hers, had taken it upon themselves to descend on the Grange in their absence. Mrs Jones was in her element ensuring that all was as it should be for the Duke and Duchess of Carrick, and Ana's parents. However, their presence at luncheon the day after they arrived home was not his first clue that the rest of the family had been in residence.

He had walked straight into his study upon their arrival, leaving Ana and Mrs Jones to settle Ethan into his rooms. Taylor arrived in the study not long after.

"I take it my brother is here somewhere." Christian held a crystal decanter up to the candelabra, inspecting its meager contents. Elliot had obviously been making the most of Christian's cellar. "Welch!"

The butler entered the room before the sound of his name had finished echoing around the room.

"You called, M'Lord?" A little out of breath, Welch used a long bow to recover his equilibrium.

"Why the hell aren't the decanters full? Just because my brother sees fit to drink me out of house and home, there is no need to allow standards to drop." Christian didn't mean to be angry but he desperately wanted a bath and to make love to his wife before falling into a deep sleep from which he had no intention of waking until noon. Prior to this, he had wanted a snifter or two of his finest brandy, however, his brother appeared to have left him a finger full at best.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Things have been a bit hectic what with all the comings and goings. I'll fetch it for you immediately, Sir." Welch cross the room to retrieve the decanter when Christian held it up and away at the last minute.

"What do you mean comings and goings?"

The little man looked slightly flustered as he glanced between Taylor and Christian. "Lord Elliot is no longer here, Sir. Nor are Lady Katherine and Lady Mia. They left with him this evening. They've all gone north, Sir."

Christian quirked an eyebrow. "Have they just?" He was about to question the brevity of his siblings respective visits as a source of his own amusement when he noticed his butler shuffling rather awkwardly. "There's more?"

"Aye, Sir. You won't be pleased."

At that moment, Ana entered the room. "Won't be pleased at what?"

Welch looked down, his hand busy spit-polishing a non-existent blemish from the side table.

"Yes. What won't I be pleased about?" Christian was tired and Welch's anxiety was beginning to grate on his nerves.

Finally, the wiry butler said, "Lord Elliot left this evening when word of your impending arrival first came in from the village. He thought it best to leave and take the ladies and Master Nicholas with him."

"What?" Christian slammed down the decanter harder than he intended making them all jump.

"Who is Master Nicholas?" Ana asked. All the men turned and looked at her, the butler in shock, Taylor stoic and Christian switched quickly from irritation to distress as he realised how much he had kept from Ana before they had gone to France.

"You may leave us, Welch." Christian kept his tone low and firm. He needed the butler gone quickly before he had this conversation with Ana. A nod to Taylor dismissed him as well. Once they were both gone, Christian turned and faced Ana with arms folded across his body.

"Nicholas is my 5 year old ward. He has lived at the Grange for most of his life under my care."

Realisation dawned in Ana's eyes with startling lucidity. "The little boy? I thought I had imagined him." Her gaze dropped to the carpet and she leaned back on the table with both hands. All this time she had thought he was part of her own impending madness. But… "He was real? Why didn't you tell me? And why on earth didn't he live in the house with us?"

Christian's face twisted in anguish. He knew that the secrets had been wrong to keep from her but the less people who knew about Nicholas, the better and he felt he had to win her heart before he broke the news to her that they had a young child in their care.

"Ana, I… Nicholas is…" He was scrambling for words to explain the lad but nothing seemed to be quite right. Who was he protecting if he said nothing? Meanwhile, Ana had that look that said the toe-tapping was about to begin. Her arms were already folded across her body, warning him that the explanation better be a good one and it had best be the truth. "Nicholas is the heir to Ravensthwaite."

A thousand thoughts streamed through Ana's head at once. Remembering the way the little boy looked. His smile, his coloring, the small mannerisms that had reminded her of Christian. When he had appeared as an illusion, a dream presence, she hadn't minded that link. Now, she felt the bile rise in her throat. Because as much as Nicholas had looked like Christian, he had also looked like Kate and the thought of the two people she loved the most, sharing a child, had her mind reeling. And since Ethan had no son, this child, his nephew, was the next Earl of Ravensthwaite.

The pain that lanced through her body took her down so suddenly that she found herself seated when she hadn't the least intention of doing so. Christian and Kate. No wonder her friend felt such animosity toward him. It all became so clear. All the reasons Ana had attributed to that animosity had been to do with her parents and Ethan. But now it seemed that wasn't it at all. Ana tried to make the event of Nicholas' birth and their betrayal match up. Only it wasn't a betrayal was it, because Ana had not even known Christian then. Closing her eyes, she wished it wasn't true, and then her mind took over.

"How old is Nicholas?" At first she had shut him out, her expression seeming to wish him gone. Then she raised her eyes to look at him and he saw they were glassy with tears that she refused to shed. Trying to read her facial expression had been impossible. That closed look was one that betrayed nothing so he superimposed disgust, because that was what he expected. That was what experience had handed him time after time, as he had traveled through life. Disdain, disgust, barely concealed hatred. If she was going to shun him or his family for covering up Nicholas' presence, if she was going to judge them, then perhaps she was not the woman he thought she was. He hoped that this was not the case. None of them deserved it. They had done what they had to keep Nicholas safe. To protect him from harm. And to protect his parents. He had hoped that Ana would claim Nicholas as her own but her expression was fast diminishing that hope. Bereft of the woman he thought she was, he started to turn away. "I asked how old is he?"

Her voice was more forceful, more demanding. Turning to face her, he held back the answer, making her wait. She was proud, defiant, so damn sure that she was in the right. Well, he had had enough of self-righteous, judgmental do-gooders and gossips all of his life. He would be damned if he would tolerate it from her. If she didn't like it, she could leave.

"He's just a boy, Anastasia. An innocent. Do not put a label on him that you will live to regret." The anger coursed through his body in waves. The rage shook him as he stared her down. The intensity in his eyes made her blanch. This was the inscrutable and intimidating captain, the war strategist.

"I don't mean…I just wanted…" She looked genuinely terrified and he was glad of it.

"All of my life, I have heard the word 'bastard' thrown around with abandon. My life has been tainted by the poison of those crones who are supposedly the arbiters of good taste and guardians of societal norms, appointed by right of birth. If it hadn't been for the strength of my stepmother in standing up to them and the power she could wield as a duchess, I would have left London to its ill-conceived devices years hence. As it is, I cannot stand to be in their ballrooms any more frequently than I have to be. I am not one of them, will never be one of them, no matter how much my father claims me. I will not have that for Nicholas. I will move us to the Americas if that is what it takes for him to live a normal life without judgment. So don't you dare say it."

Tears were now streaming down her flushed cheeks. He knew that she was so tired and disappointed in this situation, but it pierced him to his soul that she was not doing a thing to hide it. "I want to know how old he is and I want to know why you didn't marry her! If you are such an honorable gentleman. Why the hell didn't you marry her while you could? Why didn't you give him your name?" Ana had stormed toward him, unleashing her fury in the small fists that pummeled his chest. He grasped her wrists trying to restrain her.

"What the hell are you talking about? I couldn't marry my own sister! We might not have the same mother but we are still blood." Then it dawned on him what she was saying. "You thought, Kate…?"

Wracked with sobbing, Ana heaved in a breath and collapsed into his chest, barely swallowing down enough breath to stop from choking on her own tears. The pain in her heart would never be extinguished. She had no right to feel betrayed by them but she would never forgive Christian for not doing his duty. Then she allowed his words to sink in and her tears of anguish turned into tears of relief. Such relief that Christian had to catch her before she hit the floor in a puddle at his feet.

Sweeping her up into his arms he crossed the room to a chaise and sank down, cradling her in his lap. He stroked firmly down her back until her breathing came under control and the heaving sobs changed to quiet sniffles. Just when he thought she might never stop crying, the door opened and his stepmother appeared wearing her night clothes and a wrap.

"Darling, is everything alright?" She was a picture of concern and the angel of his childhood.

"I don't think she is going to stop. How did you…?"

Grace crossed the room and sat down beside them, taking Ana's hand. "I could hear you fighting from my slumber." Christian looked at her with the same lost look she recalled from when he was a little boy. "A mother knows." She smiled.

"You always say that, as if you had given birth to me yourself." This was a thought that often came to Christian's mind when dealing with Grace and her maternal instincts but this was the first time he had ever voiced it aloud.

"You think that because you are not the fruit of my womb that I don't feel as connected to you as Elliot and Mia. Christian, you disappoint me. Haven't I loved you enough?" She was not chiding him. Her tone was far more matter of fact than that. She was under no illusion that Christian had suffered for not being her actual son over the years. However, he had arrived in their lives between a series of miscarriages and her pregnancy with Mia and mended an aching crevice of a wound that was in her heart with his intensity and empathy. He always knew what she needed before she could voice her desires or emotions. That was his gift to the world. Only it seemed he might possibly be having some issues using this same emotional intelligence when it came to his wife. It did seem rather ironic that Ana would be the one person in the world with whom he could not empathise with any degree of consistency.

"I'm sorry, mother. I didn't mean…" Grace placed a palm on his cheek to silence him. A serene smile fell across her face as she tried to reassure him.

"My darling, Elliot is my strength, Mia is my spirit but you…she stroked the stubble on his jaw…you are my heart, and have been since the day I set eyes on you. You've always been the serious one, the thinker, the voice of reason. I knew that your father took your mother because it was expected of a young husband to have his mistress. But Ella was not just a fancy. Carrick loved her, as much as he loves me. If he didn't I am not sure that I could have put up with her in our lives for as long as I did. She was a good woman and she adored you. She made me promise to take care of you, to keep you close in my heart and raise you as my own. I would have anyway, because you are Carrick's, but I love you because Ella was like a sister to me."

Christian had heard this a thousand times before but he appreciated the telling of it every time. However, he knew that from the way her body calmed in his arms, Ana was listening and taking in his mother's words. And that, he knew, was why his mother was telling the story again, now.

Ana sat up and straightened a little without pulling out of Christian's embrace.

"There, there my sweet. Is that a little better?" Grace was the soothing voice of calm in a storm that had washed over them with abandon. Christian had no idea how Ana had misread the situation so drastically but he was glad that she was calm enough to hear what he had to say. He stood up and placed her on the chaise next to his mother. The older woman wrapped an arm of support around her daughter-in-law while Christian sank to his knees in front of them. He wanted to see Ana's eyes as he told his tale.

"Ana, Nicholas does not belong to me and Kate. He is Ethan's son. Ethan and my sister, Mia. He is five years old. Mia got pregnant on the eve before Ethan left for France."

Ana's eyes were still glassy but she held her tears in check. "I'm sorry. When I saw him those few times I was taken by how much he reminded me of you and Kate. It never occurred to me that he might be Ethan's and certainly not Mia's. But you have to understand, no matter who he belongs to, I would never have called Nicholas a bastard. He would always have been family. I just…"

"You thought that I had been dishonorable and that is why Kate does not like me?"

Ana lowered her eyes, nodding her head. "I'm sorry."

Christian tucked a finger under chin and lifted her head."Darling, I'm sorry. I should have known that you are made of sterner stuff. I think I fell in love with you because you remind me so much of my mother. You have her compassionate heart."

A small sob escaped from Grace. Ana and Christian looked at her with a little alarm. "I'm sorry. You don't call me 'mother' enough. I mean, I know I am not her but I really do love you as my own."

Christian grinned. "I know you do. And I love you for it." He turned back to Ana who was frowning into her lap. "You have concerns?"

It took her a moment to bring her thoughts together. "So what happened when you found out that Mia was pregnant?"

Grace and Christian shared a look and then Grace continued the story. "To hear Mia tell it, she seduced Ethan. She thought herself in love and threw herself at him as a gift on his last night in London. He was young and foolish and the four boys had been out on the town drinking to his last night of freedom. Elliot brought him home to our townhouse to sleep it off and Mia, well, she was young. Christian knew she was pregnant before any of us. He suggested that we to take her to Italy to visit my sister, Olivia. We had been in Italy a week when he convinced her to confess that she had not been seasick on the journey. Christian departed and we stayed in Italy until Mia gave birth. While we were gone, Ethan was arrested in France and thrown into La Force prison. Then his parents were lost at sea, all within weeks of each other. We knew little of this until James arrived in Italy and insisted it was time to bring us all home."

Christian took over the story. "We had established, by then, that Ethan had been suddenly released without explanation and we thought it best to bring Nicholas and Mia back to England to await Ethan's return. She railed against it, saying that it was a mistake, her mistake. But we knew that Ethan would do the honorable thing." Christian paused and leveled Ana with a stare. "As we all would."

Ana, shame-faced, nodded her head. She had accused him, wrongly and he was making sure that she knew what type of man she had married. The mortification at her false and baseless accusations made her feel faint. Taking a deep breath she urged him on.

"Weeks turned into months and Ethan didn't come home. Then we heard that he had been killed. James went to France seeking proof and instead found that Ethan was on the move. He had left France for Vienna and there were enough witnesses to confirm he was still alive. When the second report of his death came in, we began to suspect a plot. Again, James found proof and then a third time, James uncovered a very real attempt on Ethan's life. In the mean time, Mia was hiding at the Grange with Nicholas and months had turned to years. Mia hadn't been seen in London for four years by this time and we kept circulating the story that she had remained in Italy but we couldn't keep this up forever. Given the falsehood of the claims, we determined that if anyone discovered Nicholas' identity, he might be at risk."

"Because of being the sole heir?" The incredulity of the situation had Ana's mind reeling as she tried to process all the information she was hearing. She and Kate had known so little of any of this and to think of someone as vibrant and sparkling as Mia, in hiding with her son for all that time.

"Yes. Although his legitimacy reduced the chances of his inheriting, my father is powerful enough to petition the King for him to at least inherit the unentailed lands, even if he could not inherit the title. However, someone in government wants Ethan dead and there is no reason to believe that Nicholas isn't at risk. However, keeping Nicholas a secret also meant that Mia was trapped."

"And because you brought them to Trevelyan Grange,those harridans in Faversham know that he is here, don't they?"

Christian frowned. "Harridans. What do you mean?"

"The women in Faversham. They were so mean. Saying awful things about you and your harem of women in the village. Do they know that Nicholas is here?"

"It's entirely possible, although I am not sure how. He doesn't leave the estate. Nor did Mia while she was here. You didn't tell me that they were mean to you."

"It doesn't matter. They would not deign to visit the estate and given the situation, I am glad that they haven't. We don't want those, what did you call it? Guardians of societal norms? No we don't need them judging Nicholas, or us." Ana smiled at him. Then frowned. "Only, you said he was gone."

Grace spoke up. "Yes, Mia insisted that they leave and once Kate had discovered the truth about Nicholas, well, she agreed. They have gone to Dumfries. We tried to talk them out of it but they insisted that Nicholas' safety might depend on it. Elliot was also in agreement."

"Yes, well, given the state that Ethan is in, perhaps that is a good thing." Ana muttered almost to herself.

"What do you mean, dear?" Grace asked.

"Mother, Ethan is not in good shape. He has suffered from his incarceration and his recovery will be lengthy, I would imagine."

"He is physically unwell?" Christian shook his head.

"Not as bad as he could be, although, he has not been treated kindly in prison. No, it is his mental state that worries us the most. He has spent the most time with Ana on the return voyage. He seems to trust her in a way that he doesn't yet feel able with me or any of my men. Even James failed to penetrate his haze."

"Oh, goodness. That does not sound good. Poor love. Well, he is lucky he has you." Grace looked from one to the other. Christian and Ana looked briefly at each other, both wondering if they would be the ones to help Ethan at all.

"We'll certainly do what we can but it could take some time," Ana replied.

Grace stood up. "He's in good hands, Ana. Now, I shall take my leave. I might not be sleeping but you can guarantee that your father will awake before the first birdsong. How a night owl can live with a rooster, I will never know." With a smile and a wink she left the room.

"Come." Christian stood and held a hand out to Ana. After a moment, she placed her small hand in his large one and allowed him to assist her up from the chaise.

"Are you going to forgive me?"

"Ana, there is nothing to forgive." He sounded so certain that she almost believed him.

"Yes, there is. I leapt to a conclusion that was unfounded."

"You might not have noted this fact but that is the story of my life." And she knew he was not just talking about being the bastard son of a Duke. He might have forgiven her, but she wondered when he might begin to forgive himself.

"You're a good man, Christian." They were making their way hand in hand through the dark hallways to their apartments, the lamp casting ghostly shadows upon the walls. Her words were doing nothing to wipe the haunted look from his face. "Is this about Nicholas? Or Ethan?"

"Is what?" He replied in a rather distracted fashion that was less than convincing. He was not in the least bit distracted.

"Your mood. Ever since I met you I have been aware that you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I used to think you were arrogant and aloof but I know better now. You seem to be worried about so many people, concerned for their welfare and motivated by a need to serve. Yet, who serves you, Christian? While you were at sea there was freeness to your spirit. Since we put foot on that beach this evening, you have been struggling."

"It is nothing." Yet he knew, now that they were on home soil, he would have to have a conversation with Ethan and the outcome might have devastating effects on the young man's fragile psyche. While Christian longed to be forgiven for his misdemeanors, he had no intention of compromising Ethan's state of mind in the process.

Ana was pensive. She saw the stiffness in his shoulders and the set of his jaw. Something had changed and the shifts had been subtle. She thought she understood him better now but he was still chasing demons, ones that made him question his own self-worth. And she had added to that tonight with her baseless and stupid assumptions. If she had truly listened to what he had said, instead of jumping to conclusions, she would have had more faith and seen the truth. Instead, she had rushed in with the same thinking and judgments that had plagued him all his life. He was the bastard son of a Duke and no matter what he or his family did, no one in society would let him forget it.

Christian paused at the door to her room, readying to leave her there but she was having none of it. They had established the rules of their relationship at sea and she would not let that go. He needed her and she needed to give herself to him. There would be none of the accepted norms of marriage for them.

Allowing him to place a chaste kiss on her hair, she stepped into her room, she saw that Louisa had left her night rail out on the bed and banked the fire. Ana listened at the adjoining door to Christian's room as he moved about. He was alone, no valet. The slosh of water indicated that he was bathing which gave her a little time. Ana quickly undressed and bathed herself in the luke warm water that had been placed in her room. Then ignoring the night clothes, she took a deep breath, opened the door and walked through.

Reclining under the sheets, Christian's eyes were closed but he knew sleep would not come, no matter the aching tiredness in his bones. Now that they were home, he would have to deal with the issues he had been avoiding. Not talking to Ana about Nicholas prior to France had been a mistake exacerbated by the ridiculous promise he had made with her father. The thought of all that meant weight heavy in his mind. And then there was Ethan. His mind was churning and his body wanted Ana, but tonight, he understood better than ever why he didn't deserve her. Then he heard the click of the door and there she stood in her naked glory, her long dark tresses curling over her shoulders, breasts high and proud, a smile on her face and a scarf in her hand; harlot and angel.

"Ana, what are you…?" He sat up, his body instantly alert and wanting her with fierce intensity. Then she did the one thing he would never have expected in a thousand years.

"Sit back." Her voice was strong, authoritative. Her eyes hard, inscrutible.

He complied, sitting back against the headboard. Moving across the room, he followed her with his eyes, drinking in the sight of her long, confident limbs, the gentle curve of her stomach and hips. His tongue snaked out and licked his dry lips. She was stunning, enticing and his mouth was watering as a man who craved his next meal but he held still.

Taking control of his hands, she knelt on the edge of the bed and bound his wrists with the scarf, first together and then above his head. As she did so, her breasts touched his face in a deliberate swipe. Powerless to resist, he took one hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. She pulled away with a jerk and slapped his face, then retreated quickly to the far side of the room. He tugged on his restraints in frustration, wanting to pull her back to him.

"No!" He smiled but she kept her face impassive, as she approached the end of the bed again. So close but still so far out of his reach. "You think to take control, Sir? I think not. You have fought to control all of your life. You have been the keeper of secrets, the rescuer, the philanthropist, the hero, all of your life. Trying to ensure that you give your all to your country, your family, your friends. I understand that. I love that about you. Tonight, you need to relinquish that control, Christian. You need to receive love, pleasure, acceptance. Do you understand me?"

There was a long silence as he considered what she was saying. What she was offering. Release of control and responsibility. The thought was divine. Impossible. Yet, here she was, offering him exactly that. Her head was tipped to the side as she awaited his answer. There was no shyness to her. Only desire and love burned behind her eyes. Surrender was his only option.

"Yes, Ana."

"And you will understand, that you are worthy of this love?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. Worthy? Of her? He wanted to be that, always. Opening his eyes, he took a moment to capture her gaze.

"Yes, Ana."

"Good." She knelt on the end of the bed and bent her head to his feet. "You have beautiful feet," she whispered. Then she began to kiss, first the top of his foot, then around to the ankle and heel as she lifted the foot into her lap. With one long lick, she made her way from the heel to the arch of his foot and his cock jumped in response. He let out a groan and she placed his foot firmly against her breast as she smiled at him.

"Do you like that?" Her voice was still husky. He knew she was not entirely sure of what she was doing. She was improvising and he loved it. He wanted more.

"Yes, Ana." He tried to keep his voice as even as possible, an enticement for her to make him suffer. He wanted to suffer at her hands. It was agonising, this slow seduction, and he desired from his core.

Lifting the foot again, she began to suck on his toes, one at a time. The sensation was unbearable and he had no idea that his basest desires were so connected to his feet. His little minx was surprising him, dominating him, one metatarsal at a time. The agony was so sweet and his erection was straining and jumping in erratic response, made all the more painful by the look of delight on her face as she played his feet and his cock like a sexual flute.

Another groan as she started on the other foot, this time letting his foot rest against her breast, his toes firmly in her mouth, as she massaged up and down his aching calf muscles. It was release and tension all in one, the tightness of his leg muscles relaxing under the warmth of her touch while his manhood stretched and strained to be touched.

"You are very responsive to my touch. Have I told you how much I adore your feet? No?" He shook his head, trying desperately to suppress another groan. "Well, I do. I suppose that makes me some sort of sick, pervert in some circles but I believe that you love this as much as I do. I shall worship your feet with monotonous regularity if you will let me. Will you let me, Christian? May I worship at your feet?"

Her words sounded wrong. He wanted her to continue her pleasure attack but to have her worship at his feet? No. That was not what he wanted. He started to pull his foot away but she held it firm, a challenging look her eyes. He tugged and she bit down hard making him yell out and his cock almost exploded. Then she sucked, firmly soothing the bite. The press of her hands into his flesh, the suction of her hollowed cheeks, the desire in her eyes was too much and he felt the familiar pressure at the base of his spine. Without much warning, his body bucked and writhed as his cock ejaculated of its own volition all over his body. Ana's eyes sparkled as she watched the eruption, still sucking firmly on his big toe.

"Yes, Ana! God!" The explosion did not seem to want to stop and he wanted her to touch him. No sooner had he the thought than he felt her crawling up his body, her hand wrapping around his still firm cock and taking the last of his orgasm into her mouth. She sucked in the last of it before moving to lap up the glistening cream that now coated his stomach. "Ana, please, stop. You don,t… arrgh!"

Her hand squeezed his balls as she bit into the flesh on his hips. What the hell? She smiled up again.

"You keep saying the wrong things, Christian. I want to worship at your feet, I want to worship your body with my tongue and taste the fruit of our love in my mouth. I will offer myself to you and worship you and love you and you will understand that you deserve this. You don't have to do a thing. Just accept. Cede control and let me love you."

Her mouth returned to his cock and she sucked and laved, pumping her hand up and down its length bringing it back to life even more quickly than he had ever believed possible. The most practiced whores could not achieve this result the way his Ana could. She rubbed her breasts along his thighs as she ministered to his sex, her pussy pressing and coating his leg with its juices. Cleaning him, licking him, fucking him with her pretty mouth and hand, had her hot and ready for him.

"Will you let me?" she finally whispered, her blue eyes fixed on his.

"Yes, Ana." He swallowed, unable to believe what she was doing but not wanting it to end. She sat up, leaning over him and kissing his mouth before sitting back, facing him but not touching him. His body felt bereft of her touch but she looked so beautiful that his eyes simply feasted.

Making sure that he was completely focused on her, she placed her finger in her mouth and sucked on it before slowly pulling it out with a pop. Then she lifted her body up, shifting her legs apart and reached down to touch herself. Beginning somewhat tentatively, she merely stroked the top of the thatch of hair at the juncture of her thighs, then pressing harder, she slid her finger down and inside the folds. Glancing down she noted that he would not be able to see properly so she reached between her legs and parted her folds for his viewing pleasure. When she glanced up his tongue had sneaked out again.

"Do you see what you do to me, Christian?" the sound barely cut through the air, she was so breathless with lust for him. The more she touched, the more the juice of her desire began to flow down the inside of her thigh. "Would you like to taste?"

He nodded. "Yes, Ana." His own erratic breathing made his voice no more than a husky whisper and she laughed at the strain she heard there. Pulling her finger through the moistness, she lifted it to his mouth. He took her finger in and sucked hard, swirling his tongue around her skin. She moaned and closed her eyes, letting her other hand continue working on her clit while he sucked. "I want more. Please, Ana."

There was a pause while she considered this and then she stood and walked up the bed until she was standing over his face. Kneeling on the head board, one leg either side of his head, she gripped the bed posts and leaned herself into his face so he could taste her. The shock of his tongue on her hard clit made her jump and then they settled into a rhythm as he thrust his tongue and she parried with her hips. He sucked her hard, making her gasp but she pressed down for more, allowing him to drive her on until she felt she could hold back no more.

Pulling away from his face, she reached down and released his hands. Lowering herself down, she positioned him at her entrance before impaling herself on his length. Kissing him hard, she responded to her own salty, musk on his face. His hands, now free went to her hips and held her firm as he pressed up to meet each of her downward thrusts. The undulating movements were slow and steady, as if they were still anchored aboard the ship, moving to the swells of the ocean as the tides ebbed and flowed. This was who they were, an eternal give and take, tension and release, control and surrender. This was how they loved and each of them understood this to the core of their souls. And the rocked each other to a powerful, simultaneous release.

"You are mine, Christian. The rest of the world may try to lay claim to you but in then end, you are mine." Ana whispered into his neck as they held each other in the aftermath. They were still sitting, still joined but now Ana slumped into the protective circle of his strong upper body, his muscled arms wrapped around her.

"Yes, Ana." She giggled as she lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

"Promise me that you won't ever doubt that?"

"And you are mine. I don't know what I did to deserve you but…" She placed a finger over his mouth to silence him.

"Don't do that. It doesn't matter. The point is you do deserve me. You deserve my love and that of your family. You are a worthy person, Christian."

"Well, I suppose my navy record…"

"No! I mean, yes, you are a naval hero and there is no denying that. But you are so much more. You have given all of the people at the Grange a home. You saved your friend, your sister, your nephew. You give so much of yourself. I will spend the rest of my life making sure that you know that you are worthy."

A yawn escaped her mouth and he quickly shifted her so that their bodies spooned. Eventually, he heard her breathing change. She might convince him that he was worthy of her love but the label naval hero stuck in his throat, as it always did. It always would.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely questions and comments. I am posting another unbeta'd effort that could undergo some radical change. I'm not completely happy with it but thought you might all like to offer some comments for improvement. Thanks again, Sasha xxx**

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><p>In the dark of the night, Ethan roamed the halls of the Grange unable to sleep. He felt odd being back on land, the rocking of the sea becoming a source of comfort to him. Worse, he felt displaced here in the Grange, amongst the understated grandeur of Christian's stately home. He had the overwhelming urge to get out to the stables and ride across country until his lungs burst. Only, his limbs were fighting a war with his brain and he could not stop them from shaking long enough to walk a hall without holding the walls, let alone control a horse at full tilt.<p>

Besides, he had overheard voices in the night, the Duke and Duchess of Carrick, talking about her. She had been here, in the house until today and then when she knew he was coming she had run. Run like the cold, callous bitch he knew she would grow up to be. Mia had always been spoiled by her brothers and father. She had always gotten what she wanted from everyone, even him. Once he had thought her the most beautiful creature on earth, the woman he was fighting to return home to, the love to whom he had made promises he intended to keep and then she, the fickle bitch she was, had changed her mind. Dying in Paris would have made it all easier to bear but then Castlereagh had called upon him.

Shoving the bile of memories down he continued to wander, willing his legs to cooperate. Before long, he found himself outside the house, the salt of the sea filling his nostrils and feeding the urge to run. The further he walked the stronger he felt until his bare feet were pounding the dewy grass beneath him. On and on, his heart racing, arms and legs pumping, he ran into the darkness until he reached the edge of a cliff, overhanging menacing rocks and crashing sea. How easy to step off,to end it all right now. To never have to think of her or France ever again.

The next morning, Ana had the opportunity to spend time with her mother and Grace while the men shut themselves in Christian's study. Ana was anxious about their discussions, knowing full well that much of the conversation would be centered on Jackson Hyde. However, now that she had returned to the Grange, she would take up the duties as lady of the manor and that included entertaining her mother and mother-in-law.

"You know darling, you look lovely with a little color in your cheeks." Her mother held the tongs poised over the cup to drop in a sixth lump of sugar into her tea, quite oblivious to the fact that Ana didn't take sugar at all. Grace smiled and halted Caroline from adding any more with a gentle hand on her wrist. Caroline looked down and then frowned, as if recalling something.

"Are you alright, mother?" Ana reached out to take the cup. Having suffered through worse concoctions at her mother's hand, Ana was not so concerned with her tea but with the sudden loss of concentration that had washed over Caroline's features.

"Quite but I don't think you should drink that, darling. You don't usually like sugar." Caroline looked quite confused and then her bottom lip sneaked out in a pout. "Oh, dear. I did it again, didn't I? I forget. So easily. You know, I can recall what I was doing in 1792 but I can't quite remember your husband's name." Caroline looked at Ana with another frown.

"It's alright, mother. His name is Christian. Christian Grey." Ana kept her voice soft and her face impassive as she swallowed a mouthful of the sickly sweet liquid.

"Oh, yes. He looked so handsome at your wedding. In his uniform." She stopped again with yet another frown. "Why did he wear a uniform?"

"My son is a sea captain, Lady Caroline. A very successful one." Grace's words were full of pride as she gave Caroline a wide smile. Caroline nodded, as if she understood what was being said.

"He was involved with that terrible accident at sea with the Kavanaghs, wasn't he, Ana?" Caroline's ability to blurt out statements and questions that others would piously hold back was becoming legendary.

Ana's eyes widened. Her mother had no control over a sugar bowl but she seemed to have a fairly good hold on events from five years ago. She had not noticed this about her mother before. Whenever she returned to her childhood home to visit she found her mother to be quite addled and unpredictable. This side of her, the one that could call on information from years hence, was something that Ana had not noted.

"Yes, mother. They decorated him for that battle." Even though the Kavanaghs' ship was lost, Ana thought immediately. Just as quickly, she reprimanded herself for thinking such thoughts.

"Yes, you know the ladies' guild said some awful things about that. Vicious women, all of them. Only…I can't recall what they said. Isn't that odd?" Caroline peered at the inside of her tea cup as if looking for the answer there. Then she shrugged and replaced the cup in the saucer putting it carefully on the tray and picking up the sugar bowl. Holding the tongs out to Ana she asked, "Would like some sugar, my dear? You know, you look quite lovely with some colour in your cheeks."

Luncheon was in full swing when Welch arrived at the door of the dining room and announced the arrival of two gentlemen. Christian rose and excused himself from the dining table, saying he would meet them in his study. Ana watched her husband make a business-like exit then returned to her guests. Whoever had arrived at the house was expected as Christian had shown no surprise and this gave Ana cause for concern.

Lady Caroline was in fine form, telling story after story of Ana's childhood, while Grace punctuated with tales of her own children. Some of her mother's stories were quite lucid and even accurate in the details. Carrick and Raymond carried on their own discussions of fishing leaving Ana to smile that it all appeared so normal. At least their parents seemed to hold a genuine affection for each other. Welch reentered the room to supervise the remainder of the meal.

"Welch, who has arrived to see my husband?" The butler leaned over and refilled her tea cup, gingerly.

"I believe it is Lord Haverstock and a Mr Hyde arrived from London, m'Lady."

Ana picked up her napkin from her lap and threw it on the table as she rose from her chair. Her father reached out a hand to halt her.

"My dear, perhaps you should let your husband handle this."

Ana looked at him incredulously. "Pardon me? In the same way that you dealt with him?" Ana didn't mean to belittle her father, but the presence of that weasel in her house was making her itch. "Father, I apologise."

"No, you're right. I didn't handle it. It is for that reason that Christian is best placed to deal with him." His cheeks flushed red with shame and Ana moved toward him to give some reassurance when she noticed Carrick had shifted to stand beside her.

"Ana, perhaps we should go and support Christian." Carrick placed a firm hand on Sir Raymond's shoulder before departing the room.

Grace did not move out of her chair to join them. "I think I should like to stay here and finish me tea. Would you stay with me, Caroline?" Ana smiled at Grace gratefully. Somehow the thought of her mother being near any sort of confrontation with Hyde seemed like a terrible idea.

"Yes. Mother, I should be eternally grateful if you would keep Her Grace company." Lady Caroline nodded at Ana with a benign smile. Ana turned and left the room on her father's arm.

Entering the front drawing room a few minutes later, they found Christian with Jackson Hyde, Carrick and a very mysterious but distinguished gentleman who she presumed was Lord Haverstock. Hyde's nasal whine could be heard clearly resonating around the room.

"I don't believe that you understand. If it wasn't for me, Sir Raymond would be destitute," Hyde intoned. A shudder went through Ana's body and she cringed to think what the simpering, sniveling rat would say next.

"It is because of you that he is almost destitute." Christian's voice was flat, emotionless, cold. If his words had been aimed at her, she would have been terrified. Hyde at least had the good sense to flinch.

"But…but it was Sir Raymond who ran the property into the ground, Sir. Not I. He had substantial debt when I took over the running of the estate." The horrid little man was leaning his body to one side and wringing his hands in front of his body. He was quite pathetic and Christian wasn't taken in.

"You were employed as the estate manager long before any real debt existed. My brother has been over the accounts and it is quite clear that you have either been a complete failure in your dealings or you are siphoning the funds into your own coffers." Even though she knew that Elliot had been prepared to assist in extricating Hyde from their lives, she had not expected her brother-in-law to take enough interest to delve into their accounts. Everything in Lord Elliot Grey's resume would lead one to assume that he was a cad and a wastrel. However, the fact that both Carrick and Christian held him in great esteem seemed to indicate that he was a better businessman than she had been led to believe.

"And where is your brother, Captain Grey? If he was so concerned about the monies and the work that I have dedicated my life to this past decade, then why is he not here to accuse me himself."

The implications were obvious. Hyde seemed to believe that Elliot was being used as some sort of foil in this discussion. Carrick rose and walked to the sideboard, calmly, pouring himself a snifter of brandy. Christian and Haverstock were still and silent, allowing Hyde to focus his rather beady little eyes on the duke. Carrick took his time.

"My son and I have gone through all of the accounts from the last ten years, Mr Hyde. It is quite clear to both of us that you have been fiddling the books in such a way as to convince Sir Raymond that the tenant farms were unsustainable. Your efforts were so convincing, in fact, that you forced my daughter-in-law into paid employment. My son tells me that you had designs on marrying Anastasia yourself. Taking away her choices seems a like a terribly gauche way of winning a lady's heart."

Ana wanted to break out in applause. Never had she thought that anyone would be able to prove what she had suspected Hyde of doing for years. Her father had given up all hope of being able to manage the properties himself when her mother had started to deteriorate. That was not long after Mr Hyde was employed as manager. Which reminded her.

"Tell me, Mr Hyde. What do you know about the diagnosis for my mother? I only ask you see, as my husband has given me cause to believe that perhaps the records that have been presented to us might not be an entirely accurate reflection of her condition."

Hyde was starting to turn an unsightly shade of green as he realised the evidence was stacking up against him.

"Perhaps I might be of assistance here, Lady Trevelyan." A deep voice spoke up from the corner as a very imposing gentleman rose from his seat and advanced on the group. "Lord Haverstock, Whitehall, at your service, m'am."

Lord Haverstock bowed over Anastasia's hand in a very charming manner. As he raised his head so that only she could see his face, he smiled broadly and gave her a quick wink, then turned back to face Hyde.

"I bring with me some records that Viscount Trevelyan wished me to procure from a particular Harley Street specialist. I believe these are the medical records of the doctor who examined the Baroness eight years ago. The medical diagnosis clearly indicates a slight but stable dementia accompanied by mild hysteria. Nothing untoward for her age and with a reduced level of stress, completely manageable. He was somewhat concerned to hear that Lady Caroline might be suffering a little more than anticipated."

"I…I…uh…" Hyde looked decidedly ill at ease. The green pallor was turning decidedly gray. "I know nothing of any records."

"But you were always so kind, Mr Hyde. Bringing us the reports from the London specialists when we were unable to attend to the task. You also delivered us the tincture that would keep my mother calm." Ana smiled sweetly at Hyde who had suddenly started to match the off-white walls behind his head. He tugged at the cravat around his neck, as if it was too tight.

"Ah, yes." Lord Haverstock flicked through the papers at a leisurely pace, peering through his pince-nez for a moment as they all waited patiently. All except Hyde, who was wriggling rather like a youngster who had rather urgent need of a chamber pot. Finally, he continued, "Sir Raymond, you will be happy to know that the specialist did identify the tincture you sent me as laudanum and he strongly advised you not to give it to Lady Caroline. It would be likely to become addictive and exacerbate her condition."

Lord Haverstock was quite matter of fact with his delivery but the result was that Hyde began to have an uncontrollable apoplexy in the form of incessant coughing. His pale skin was turning bright red, perhaps even purple.

"Perhaps we should issue you with the laudanum, old bean, you don't sound at all well," said Sir Raymond, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until this point, but now appeared to be quite enjoying the show.

Christian stepped toward Hyde, who was now not only coughing up a lung but shaking like a leaf. The slap on the back might have been an offering of assistance but Ana was quite sure it was a tad harder than was strictly necessary. Once the man started to get his bodily functions under control, Christian lifted him off the floor by his lapels.

"You are no longer in control of Sir Raymond's estate. That task shall fall to me as the property stands to become mine, via my wife, in the event of Sir Raymond's death. You will move off the property within the week and you shall have nothing to do with my wife or her family again. Do you understand me?"

Ana was sure that Hyde would have responded if he had the breath in his lungs to do so. However, Christian did have him in a rather awkward position and she was a little worried that the man might take on the color blue as a final aspect of the spectrum he had entertained this afternoon. She walked forward and placed a calming hand on Christian's arm.

"Darling, I think we can take Mr Hyde's trembling as acquiescence. I should so very much like to see him gone from the Grange as soon as possible or I fear I might have to redecorate this room." She smiled gracefully at Hyde and then her husband, who looked far too calm for her liking. Her hand felt the tension in his muscles and she knew that he would break Hyde's neck if he so much as breathed the wrong way. They needed to get him out of the house quickly so that blood was not shed. "Let Mr Hyde go, Christian."

It took a moment or two but then Christian lowered Hyde to the ground, straightening out the man's collar and cravat with an over enthusiastic flourish before patting him on the cheek, again, with a little too much vigor. No one would have blamed him for punching the man as a parting gift but Ana was relieved when he didn't. The restraint Christian was demonstrating was admirable but tenuous. Finally, he let go with a slight shove that sent Hyde flying backward into the silent but immovable force that was Taylor.

"Now, be a good man and disappear before I lose my patience with you." Christian gave Taylor a nod and the big man wrapped his hand around the smaller man's elbow.

Taylor tugged and Hyde followed, backing away, eyes cast down with a small nod of his head. When he turned toward the door, Welch was already there with his hat and cloak at the ready.

"Permit me to see you out." The duke placed a hand on Hyde's other shoulder and ushered him after Welch. The three men escorted Hyde away from the room and down the hallway. Within moments Carrick had returned announcing that Taylor was following Hyde's carriage on horseback, just to ensure that the weasel took the London road, post haste.

"Well, that was a job well done." Sir Raymond stepped toward Ana and took her hand, reassuringly. "You were all simply marvelous, I must say."

"I feel so guilty. I was so sure that the Harley St doctors would be correct in their diagnosis that I never questioned the reports. I insisted that mother be given the medicine regularly. Did I turn her into an opium-eater?" Desperation edged her voice, her eyes searching her father's for reassurance.

"No, my dear. I shall confess that whenever you returned to London, I would make the maids stop giving it to her. She complained that it made her feel sick and I was too weak to fight with her. Besides, I found her infinitely more…manageable, when she didn't take it. Of course, I thought I was probably making her worse. I was no wiser than you about Mr Hyde's deception. He wanted to make you fearful, to make you believe that he was your only choice as a husband. He also wanted me to be preoccupied with Caroline's health so that I would not notice what he was doing with the estate. He was very nearly successful on both counts." Turning to Christian, Sir Raymond shook his son-in-law's hand enthusiastically. "I can't thank you enough, Sir."

They all turned when the door opened and the duchess and Ana's mother walked in supporting Ethan between them.

"Look who came to join us for tea." Lady Caroline called out.

"I do believe that Lord Kavanagh is looking more handsome than when he was last on our shores." Grace grinned up at Ethan who was making every effort to smile back.

"You are a terrible liar, your Grace, but I appreciate your kindness." Ana was stunned. Ethan was acting more normal than he had any right to be. He still looked too thin and his eyes had a maturity that was beyond his years. But he was talking and smiling. She caught Christian's eye, her own glassy with tears.

"It's good to see you up and about, old man." Christian went to approach Ethan but drew back when he saw a fearful expression flash across his friend's face. Standing his ground he smiled but it was obvious that he only felt comfortable with the ladies. They walked him to a couch and sat down either side, somehow, perhaps because they were both mothers, understanding that he felt more relaxed between them.

Ethan glanced around and caught sight of their visitor. "Haverstock. You came."

"Did you expect anything less?" Haverstock, too, did not move closer, instead using his response as an excuse to stand at an amused distance. Ethan shook his head with a smile and looked down at his hands which were sitting on his lap.

"I suppose you expect a full report." Ethan choked the words out.

"All in good time. I merely came to see for myself that you are indeed alive and well."

"Yes, quite. Where is my sister?" Ethan directed his question at Ana who was suddenly at a loss as to how to explain. After all of these years, waiting and fretting over his welfare, she had run away, taking the son he didn't know about with her.

"She doesn't know you have returned yet. We thought you might want to get yourself at full strength before joining her in London." She was fudging and she could see that he knew it. His smile was too calm, inappropriate.

"Yes, my sister is all about appearances. I should like to present well for her sake. Has she found herself a husband, yet?"

Everyone answered at once. Just as Ana and Christian gave a resounding "No", Grace and Carrick intoned a confident and clear, "Yes". Ethan glanced around the faces with bemusement.

"Well, which is it?" Christian and Ana looked at each other and shrugged. They had no idea what his parents were speaking of.

"Well, that is, we are ever hopeful that Kate and our Elliot will be announcing their marriage soon." Grace seemed quite assured in her comment and Ana had to remind herself to close her mouth. Kate and Elliot would be married soon? She had no idea if she was surprised or not. Christian merely shrugged with a wide grin.

"Oh. I had no idea. Of course, how could I?" Ethan said, very much to himself.

Everyone glanced around, uncomfortably unsure as to what to say next. Christian was well aware that he had things that he needed to say but now was not the time. Carrick and Grace were fixed on each other, obviously trying to decide if something should be said about Nicholas, while Ana willed them not to say a word. Not yet. Sir Raymond was glad that the mistakes of his past were no longer the focus of conversation. Lord Haverstock seemed to be regarding them all with careful scrutiny while Lady Caroline kept stroking Ethan's hand and hair in a very motherly manner.

"Well, I find that I am tired. I might withdraw." Ethan struggled to his feet with Caroline's assistance. Ana moved toward them, to lend her support.

"Goodness me but your little boy looks like you." Caroline's voice was unfortunately crystal clear and Ethan stopped, his head tipping to one side to study her. He frowned, suddenly unsure if he had heard her correctly and then deciding that he had.

"What do you mean… _my_ son?" Tension, anger and disbelief shimmered beneath Ethan's skin while a collective gasp all but refused to echo around the room.

Caroline glanced around, suddenly unsure about the stillness that had descended on the gathering. Glances were exchanged without eyes or heads seeming to move, without chests rising and falling. No one was prepared to stop Caroline from talking while they all simultaneously prayed that she would stop. Finally, she responded, "The little boy. Nicholas. He looks so much like you, my dear. Perhaps you are related?"

The rewording did nothing to wipe the concern from Ethan's expression. He gave Christian a questioning look. Christian had no response. This was not how Ethan was supposed to find out. Hell, for the past two years, at least, Christian had resigned himself to becoming the lad's legal guardian. He hadn't prepared himself for this discussion because the person who should be telling Ethan had escaped to the north taking the boy with her. He cursed Mia for not waiting, even as he understood her motivations for going.

"I'm sure you are mistaken, m'Lady. I have no son." Ethan's mouth twisted in distaste as if the words soured on his tongue. "My sister is my only living relative."

Christian's face froze, all except for a small imperceptible tick of his jaw. Just as Ana was about to change the very awkward subject, her mother spoke again.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm always muddling things up. Of course, he can't be your son. He does have your eyes, though. And he laughs just like his mother. As if the world and he share a joke that the rest of us are not privy to. He's quite delightful."

Christian saw the moment when Ethan started to form an understanding as to what or who Caroline was babbling on about. His face showed very little but the hardened eyes and clenched jaw said enough.

"I am sure he is. Please, excuse me." Ethan shuffled to the doorway, retreating quickly.

It would be eight days before Ethan would join them for a meal and that was only as a result of Christian and Ana's respective parents departing. He dressed for luncheon but the clothes that he borrowed from Christian, hung off him like tattered curtains. Not only did his clothes no longer fit but Christian suspected that his life didn't fit him either.

With limited time left before he had to return to London, Haverstock took it upon himself to try to debrief Ethan but all conversations resulted in a strategic psychological retreat. All Ethan would say was that he had been betrayed and the information that had repeatedly put him at the mercy of the French prison system, must have come from England. Eventually, Haverstock took the meager amounts of intelligence that he could glean from Ethan and returned to the city.

Wanting to encourage his progress, Christian invited Ethan to ride, hoping that his friend would open up to him. The hours in the saddle certainly seemed to help his friend to build up his physical strength but the walls of resistance were ever present with conversations about anything other than the condition of the horses they traveled upon. Any hope that Christian had that Ethan might trust him diminished daily.

Weeks passed by, and while Ethan's physical progress was good, he kept mostly to himself, except at meals and during the odd times that he availed himself of their company for riding. He began to help out on the tenant farms, establishing tentative friendships with the locals, especially the children, who offered no threat to his sanity. Any attempts at conversations about returning to his own estates remained unresolved.

Correspondence arrived regularly from Kate who was keen to check on her brother but unable or unwilling to come to the estate to see him for herself. She maintained that Nicholas and Mia needed her more and she would remain with them until Nicholas' safety could be guaranteed. Ana responded that Ethan was well but fragile. He was, however, well protected with the crew of the Black Diamond in residence at the Grange and surrounding properties.

Ana was woken often in the night by two young men who were wrestling with their demons. She had long since given up trying to rouse Ethan during the night. Taylor had assigned himself as bodyguard, often trailing after the haunted man as he ran across the sands in the night trying valiantly to outrun his dreams. Christian was her priority as his nightmares grew exponentially with each day that he was unable to talk freely with Ethan.

Another night, another agonizing yell rent the air as Christian writhed in the bed next to her. Wrapping her body firmly around him, she allowed the slick sheen of sweat from his naked torso to coat her skin. The last two weeks she had slept nude rather than find herself shivering in the night as a result of his night sweats. Instead, she would, as she did tonight, press her flesh against his until he calmed and then straddle him, taking his anguish into her body upon each of his hard thrusts. She could not deny the pleasure he gave her but she resented the manner in which their coupling would take place.

Once they had both found their release, she would collapse on him, whispering her love to bring some calm to his spirit.

"Please, my darling, tell me what you see in your dreams." Every night she had asked and every night he had resisted, enfolding her body and encouraging her back to sleep. Tonight, she felt the surrender.

"Ana. I…" He lifted her from his body and placed her back against the head board. She watched as he lit a candle then left the bed, crossing to the water basin to splash cool water over his body. He reached for a towel, his muscles rippling with sweat and water and tension. Drying himself off, he returned to her and cleaned the moisture from her body and between her legs, before handing her a bed jacket to keep away the chill. Then he sat on the bed beside her, stroking her thighs through the sheets. Finally, he spoke.

"I dream of the night that the Ethan's parents lost their lives. They had come to me after the first time that Ethan had gone missing in France. James had found that he was still alive and so they had done some investigation of their own. They claimed to have information that would ensure that the French released him. Something that would implicate a member of the English parliament."

Ana knew some of this information from Kate. They had been convinced that if they delivered the message in person, their son would be released to their care. In times of war, this might seem naive but as Kate told it, her father was quite convincing and very well connected with members of the French parliament. Haverstock had been convinced that they could help and he had authorized that Christian would take a flotilla across the channel in escort.

"When we were attacked, we were ready. It was not unexpected that the French blockade would endeavor to halt our progress so we had formulated a plan. We had four ships, three fully armored warships and the small cutter. The larger ships would engage while the cutter would slip through the blockade to the coast. Ethan's parents were on that ship."

"Everything was going to plan and their ship made it through and was heading away from us. We had damaged the three French ships that came for us substantially and they had looked to be turning away in pursuit of the cutter. We were ready for that, too, and were about to go after the limping ships and sink them, when a large ship appeared out of nowhere. It turned sailed right through the middle and turned to present its side, the maneuver of a warship as it launched a second attack. We were sidetracked from the pursuit by the need to restrict the progress of the newcomer so I gave the order to sink it. It was only when the ship started to go down that we realized that the ship was in fact a passenger ship, possibly taking emigres to the America's, I don't know. All I know is that there were hundreds of women and children aboard. After those first shots, the ship went up in flames so quickly and began to descend into the ocean. I couldn't get all of those who needed rescuing on board the Queen alone. I signaled one of the other ships to pursue the others, to ensure the cutter got through safely and the other ship stayed. We circled for hours and hours, fishing bodies out of the water."

Christian ran his hands through his hair as his body began to shudder. Ana picked up a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, trying to rub some warmth back into his large body as best she could. The anguish in his voice broke through her defenses and she felt her own tears forming.

"There were so many bodies. For every person we saved, there seemed to be three that were dead. They lined the decks of both ships, many burnt by the fires started by our gunfire, others drowned in the icy cold of the channel sea." Christian shut his eyes but he could not block out the haunting vision. "It felt like we had only just begun our task when we saw the cutter in the distance being fired upon. It went down in a blaze of flames that broke it apart and it was gone in seconds. The French ships must have been damaged, as they didn't come back but merely sailed off into the night."

Christian held out his hands and stared at them. "So much blood on my hands."

"No. How could you have known?"

"I should have known. I should have followed the cutter and escorted it through. If I had we would have stopped that final attack and the Kavanagh's would be alive. If I had, we would not have attacked the other ship and all of those innocent people would not have been killed. They were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Christian, you were in the middle of a war. How were you to know it was a passenger ship?"

"I just should have known. It was flying the wrong flags but I should have known." He huddled under the blanket, his body hunched over in pain. "I killed all of those people. I killed Ethan's parents. And I see them, every night in my dreams, all of those faces."

Ana had no words of comfort to offer him. She was certain that he could not have done anything differently. Certainly, the navy felt that he had acted admirably under the circumstances or they would not have decorated him. Kate had told her none of this story and Ana wondered if her friend even knew. Kate's reticence as far as Christian was concerned seemed to be about a lack of effort and initiative regarding Ethan's rescue. Given that Christian must have spent the past five years second guessing every order he gave, it was no wonder he was reluctant to go running off to France on a fool's errand.

Now Ana began to understand why Christian needed to talk with Ethan. There would be no absolution for his wounded soul until he had confessed all of this to his friend. Ana wondered if she might lose the friendship of the woman she considered her sister or if this knowledge might force the Grey family to somehow cut Christian loose. She seriously doubted that would be the case. However, she could see that he might believe that he stood to lose everything and everyone if he spoke to Ethan as much as he stood to lose his mind if he didn't.

"Do Elliot and James know what happened? Does Lord Haverstock?"

Christian nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. "Yes."

"And they choose to stand beside you?"

After a moment's silence, Christian nodded. "Yes, they have tried to convince me that it was beyond my control. Elliot has theorised a conspiracy of sorts and James is in agreement. I'm…I'm just not sure."

"What do you mean, conspiracy?"

"James feels, and the others agree, that this is all tied to the attempts on Ethan's life in France. Someone here wanted him and his perhaps his father dead. I can't put my faith in that. For me it was a series of horrific mistakes."

"If they are standing firm on this then you must talk to Ethan, and soon. Regardless of any conspiracy you must have faith that Ethan will see that you did all that you thought best. All that was possible." Ana suspected that if Ethan heard this story in the same manner that she had, he would find the strength to fight for his inheritance and his life. And perhaps his son.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thanks again for the words of encouragement. Apologies for another unbeta'd effort and the resulting errors throughout. There are subtle changes that I would have liked to make from last time but in the end it probably isn't as important as just telling the story as best I can. Hope you enjoy and please let me know your thoughts and questions. Sashaxxx**

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><p>The wind whipped her tresses around her face as she stood atop the cliff and surveyed the scene below. He took her breath away as he rode up the beach toward her. Both men were, in fact, equally as striking, but her eyes rested on her husband who held the stiff carriage of one with a distasteful and difficult task to perform.<p>

It was not in Ana's nature to follow and spy on her husband but after he had left the house this morning with Ethan for their morning ride, she felt herself restless and anxious at the outcome of this day. Her stroll had started as a simple examination of the gardens but she had been so deep in thought that she hardly noticed when her feet had eventually wandered across the fields,inexplicably drawn to the water.

They had talked into the night, plotting and planning, predicting outcomes for which neither of them had firm answers. Ethan was physically well but his mind was not recovering quickly. He might never quite return to the vibrant and fearless youth whom Christian recalled before the start of the war, but then, as Ana had tried to point out, none of them were the same witless young braves who had sensed adventure over danger. Now, they all knew better.

Society had judged them all harshly. As Ana trawled the recesses of her mind for the years of ballroom gossip she had been forced to endure she realised that all of four of these young men had been maligned in some way. Ethan's disappearance had been the cause for much speculation. Deemed both foolhardy and easily swayed, he was spoken of as a youth who had forgotten his duty to his family as the heir to the Earldom. Worse, when the stories had started to filter back regarding his demise and incarceration, his name was often whispered as one who had potentially turned traitor. James was jocular, witless and secretive. More than once, Ana had seen his mother looked at with pity for being encumbered with the wild child who would never settle down. Elliot was a cad and a scoundrel, born with the world at his feet and arguably wasting it by resisting the countless women who threw themselves at him in the marriage mart. Worse by far was his passion for politics and industry. Mama's and their daughters were willing to forgive his dalliances with trade on the basis of his being the next Duke of Carrick but his hobbies were unseemly. Christian, too, was now tainted with trade but that was to be expected of someone of his station. However, he was standoffish and proud, far more proud than a bastard son of a Duke had any right to be. Then there were the rumors of his connections with France and the harem of women who lived in the village near the Grange. He might have been a decorated sea captain but there was always speculation that he, too, was a spy.

Ana was beginning to understand them all differently and wondering how they might right their reputations with society while simultaneously questioning if it were even worth the bother. Elliot would eventually become Carrick and no one would question any of his activities. James worried her. She hoped that he might find some peace in his life as she suspected he had so much more to offer than simply being an extra in the lives of the house of Carrick. However, Ethan and Christian were her main concern now. Christian had brought all of the survivors of that terrible battle, many of them women and children, to England and settled the majority at his own estate. They would possibly never be accepted in the social circles of Faversham but they were safe and housed, fed and educated at Christian's expense. Her heart swelled with love as that thought warmed her.

Absentmindedly, she watched as the men arrived at some agreed to point on the sand and dismounted, tying their horses to a tree branch that overhung the water. They sank to the sand and sat with arms resting on bent knees, looking out to sea. Willing them to begin talking, she could tell that they were in silence, their bodies poised for sound. She sighed, her anxiety mixed with resignation as she hugged her cloak closer around her shoulders.

The wind was balmy this time of year as it blew in from the southeast in gentle waves. The sun, high in the sky, blessed the ground with a warming glow and Ana breathed deeply as she sat down upon a rock. She kicked off her shoes and stockings, allowing her toes to luxuriate in the long, thick grass beneath her feet. Basking in the sunlight, gave her a moment of solace from the tension of their long night time conversation.

Christian had calmed somewhat in the early hours and made sweet, passionate love to her as the dawn broke across the sky. Their bodies had been fused in the agony and ecstasy of problems shared and she knew that her willingness to join with him was a large part of the balm for his shattered soul. She had also become patently aware that she had not had a headache since before their trip to France and that in itself was a miracle. Her husband was the antidote she had not known she required and she was quite thoroughly addicted to his healing powers. This made her even more determined to heal the rift between her husband and the Kavanaghs.

Something had happened between Kate and Christian that had caused animosity. Deep in her core she knew this to be true but Kate had never been particularly forthcoming about the friendship between the two families in her formative years and Christian refused to speak of it. Instead, his mouth would form a grim line as he announced repeatedly that this too, was not something for which he ever expected forgiveness and she was better to let bygones be bygones. He did indicate that the matter would be resolved one way or another and that he would never stand in the way of Kate's friendship with her.

Pulling the letter she had received that morning from her pocket, she began to read Kate's words.

_My dearest Ana,_

_I cannot begin to explain my grief at the distance your marriage has put between us. I know that much of this is my doing. I had thought for the longest time that Christian was amongst a large group of old childhood friends who had forsaken my brother, believing him a traitor and happy to see him rot in a French prison. Thanks in large part to my renewed acquaintance with house of Carrick, I know better. I am still somewhat horrified that the Captain engaged in entrapment to ensure that you wed, however, I am more convinced by your most recent missives, that he is becoming more worthy of you. I shall reserve my final judgment on that matter for a time when we shall meet again, I hope soon._

_There are many things in my life that have changed in recent weeks. Things that are better explained face to face. We have ensured the safety of our cargo and will be returning soon to London, as there is much work to be done to secure the future, both for myself and for those I hold dearest. It is my dearest wish that you should meet me there so that I might offer my congratulations and apologies to you all in person._

_Of course, I understand your need for privacy. There are those who would seek to invade that privacy even in the South West of England. One must take particular care to keep a distance from local issues when one is protecting one's heart. Call this a warning from one who knows._

_I hope that we shall not be apart for much longer. I remain, as always, your dearest friend and confidante._

_Kate_

The letter had arrived just after Christian and Ethan had set out this morning. The more she read it, the more Ana understood that Kate was trying to summon her to London, although she had no idea of the purpose. Why was her friend was being so secretive, not mentioning Mia or Nick or even Elliot directly? The letter held menace, the warning of an imminent threat. But from what? What were these local issues? The thought of there being a spy in their midst was almost laughable given what she had learned about her husband and his family in recent weeks. Could Kate have meant the harpies of Faversham? Was it as simple as a social issue? Surely not. Kate was nothing if not scathing of the judgments of the ton, having fallen victim some fairly wild speculations about her own life over the past few years. Why had she referred to cargo? Did she really mean Mia and Nicholas? And if so, who did she think might intercept this letter?

The wind picked up and blew the fichu from around her neck, tossing it wildly across her face. Ana carefully placed the letter under a small pile of stones to her left before removing her shawl and allowing it to drop to the ground behind her. For the next few minutes she concentrated her efforts on righting her decolletage in the face of an uncooperative breeze. So busy was she and so wild had the wind suddenly become that she did not hear her assailant until it was too late. Letting out a scream, she flailed against the hands that sought to subdue her. The attacker held her dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

"You'll shut yer gob, if ye know what's good for ye." Stale hot breath growled in her ear. Ana did not still for a moment, her feet kicking at the man's legs impotently as she cursed herself for removing her boots. Using the only weapon available to her, she screamed out Christian's name before the man hit her in the side of the head and the darkness overtook her.

Down on the beach, the two men had been engaged in deep conversation, or at least, Christian had. Ethan, on the other hand, had listened to Christian's words offering no comment or question, his face impassive as he stared out to sea. The more he talked, the less hope Christian had that Ethan would be prepared to forgive or even accept what Christian might be saying was a truth as he believed it to be. However, Christian, usually so stoic and reserved, found himself talking more and more, telling every aspect of the story in brutal detail in ways that he had not revealed to Ana the night before. The more he spoke, the more Ethan appeared to withdraw and the more desperate Christian became to make amends. As his story neared an end, a lump formed in Christian's throat. He felt sure that his friend would never speak to him again after this day. That all had been for naught and that the horrors of his past would haunt him until the end of his days, marring his marriage and scarring his soul.

"I understand that this changes everything between us. If it is your desire, I shall make arrangements to take you to London forthwith." Christian felt quite resigned to not being able to see his friend's recovery through. Disappointment was the sour taste on his tongue that he had learned to live with for most of his life. This rejection was nothing new but it smarted, like the sting of a fresh wound, all the same.

There was a long silence where Ethan looked at the horizon. Finally, he replied, "There is nothing there for me. I have no desire to return to London."

Christian noted that it was neither rejection nor acceptance, neither forgiveness nor accusation. Ethan's quite stoicism was eerie in the face of the tale Christian had just told. Perhaps he needed to press Ethan further. The Earl of Kavanagh could not simply bury his head in the sand and pretend that he did not have a life, responsibilities and duties to perform. Kate had managed the estates rather well in his absence but her time was running out. If Ethan did not return to London and his rightful place in society by the end of the year, then the title and all properties and estates would revert to the crown in the absence of an heir. The desire to tell Ethan about Nicholas sat at the tip of Christian's tongue. Would the knowledge of a son encourage his friend from this endless melancholy?

"Ethan… there is more that I need to tell you…" Just then, a sound rang out across the bay, the faint scream of a woman all but swallowed up by the wind. Ethan held up a hand to stop Christian from saying any more. Turning his head to listen for a mere second, he was up on his feet quickly and looking up at the cliff behind them.

"There!" Ethan called out before taking off at a run toward the rocks. Glancing up, Christian saw a flash of blue that disappeared quickly out of sight. But it was the scream of his name that had him scouring the cliffs longer. Christian went straight to the horses and noted that Ethan was halfway up the cliff face before he had mounted. He tethered Ethan's horse to his and hoisted himself into the saddle.

"I'll meet you at the top." Christian called out and Ethan nodded in acknowledgment without slowing his climb.

Heart pounding and senses alert, Ethan was sure-footed as he scaled the cliff face, arriving at the top in time to see, far in the distance, two men, one large, the other small, make their way through the long grasses to a waiting wagon. Without hesitation, Ethan set off on foot, running as fast as he could, in pursuit. However, running in hessians was nowhere hear as efficient as bare foot and they were gone before Christian had ascended the horse track. Without slowing, Ethan kept pace, heading toward the road hoping to at least get their direction.

Glancing around, Christian saw the pile of his wife's belongings on the ground. He jumped down and scooped them up, feeling the warmth clinging to the cloak. Inhaling deeply he was assailed with the lavendar scent of his wife. Fear clutched his heart. The flicker of the note paper seeking to escape the stones piled atop it caught his eye and he released it, scouring Kate's words. A curse escaped his lips and he scooped up the rest of her belongings and remounted his horse, commanding it to gallop after Ethan.

They caught up with each other near the coast road, Christian slowing down enough to allow Ethan to scramble atop his mount. Both men hurtled off at full speed after the direction of the carriage but by the time they arrived at the outskirts of Faversham, they feared their pursuit was fruitless. The roads forked in four different directions, one of which would arrive eventually in London, one that descended into Faversham, the one they had arrived on and one that wound down to the coast just before the mouth of the river.

Circling their horses, the two men searched the road for fresh tracks but since the traffic was heavy in and out of Faversham on a market day like today, it seemed impossible to determine which way their quarry might have gone.

"Dammit!" Christian waved the note at Ethan. "Kate knew something might happen. Why the hell didn't Ana tell me?"

Ethan grabbed the letter from Christian's hand and scanned it quickly before raising his eyes in disbelief. "Kate's alive?"

Confusion and shock crept over Christian's features. In all the weeks that Ethan had been here, they had never spoken directly to him about Kate. Ana had determined that, while Kate was absent from London and the Ravensthwaite properties, there was no point in pushing Ethan to go home. And then there was the problem that Kate, an unmarried woman, was traveling around the countryside with Elliot, a self-proclaimed rogue. While some might deem Mia a chaperon, of sorts, there would be wild speculation about Kate's reputation if their current circumstance were ever to become known. Christian and Ana, both, had reckoned that this knowledge might be enough to aggravate Ethan's current state of mind. So by tacit agreement they had tried not to mention her too much. They intended not to explain the details, but there was never a deliberate intention to mislead Ethan, however, Christian understood in this moment, that mislead him they had.

"Of course she's alive."

"But you said that the ship had gone down. That all aboard had been lost. When Mallet had reported my family had been killed, I assumed…"

"That Kate was with them?" Christian watched as Ethan allowed his horse to circle, the beast sensing his rider's agitation. "Did James not talk to you about any of this?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Christian regretted them. James had struggled to even make himself recognised to Ethan. Of course that conversation was unlikely to have taken place. The question was, would Ethan have recovered quicker if he and Ana had talked about her? Ethan was still struggling to get his horse under control and Christian reached out to grasp the reins.

"Ethan, Kate is alive and well, and anxious to see you."

"If she is so anxious to see me then where the hell is she?" There was no easy answer for that. Christian didn't know definitively, where they had gone or why they had left. Although he had his suspicions. How could he explain that Kate, a young, unmarried woman was at the moment in the company of his brother somewhere north of the Scottish border, doing God-only-knows what? More importantly, time was of the essence and he needed this conversation to be over so that they could concentrate on finding Ana.

"I don't know where she is now." Partially true. "What I do know, is that she has been agitating the members of parliament and whoever she could get to listen, to try to come and find you for years. She has never given up hope that you would return home alive. Hell, she even asked Ana to board my ship alone and request a meeting with Blackheart."

Ethan, who had kept his gaze focused on the ground up until this point, glanced quickly up at Christian. The intensity burned behind his eyes as he searched for the truth in Christian's face. Christian held his stare, willing his friend to see the truth. That his sister and his friends continued to fight on his side. Just when Christian thought he might be getting through to him, Ethan's eyes shifted and looked over Christian's shoulder to the distance.

"There." Christian turned and saw that Ethan pointed to a cloud of swirling dust in the distance. Peering in the direction his friend indicated Christian gave a single nod closely followed by a kick of his heels in his horse's flanks. Fear gripped his heart, a deep gnawing anguish in his gut, as they raced down the road toward the coast. What if he was too late? What if they got her aboard a waiting ship before they reached the shoreline? And if this was yet another attempt on Ethan's life, what the hell did they hope to gain by abducting Ana? He cursed that she had become a pawn in a much larger political game, one of which he wanted no part and which he feared they were powerless to win. Then another fear struck him with full force. At any time in the past five years, this could have been Nicholas. Whoever the puppetmaster was, Christian suspected he would have had no qualms in killing the boy if he had known of his existence.

Riding hard toward the water, Christian hoped and prayed that they had deduced correctly. He scoured the horizon searching for the boat that must be waiting somewhere to carry his wife off shore to God knew where. Fighting to keep heart and mind together, he sprinted into the lead, urging his horse on at a breakneck pace, Ethan close on his heels.

They rounded a corner to discover the wagon, abandoned on the side of the road. They dismounted in a fluid motion and Ethan ran to check the wagon. He turned back to face Christian.

"Empty." Christian held a hand up to silence him and turned toward the sound of the ocean. At present their sight line was blocked by the trees that lined the edge of the beach. They moved with stealth to a position where they could view the beach undetected. Two figures were ambling over the sand toward a small rowing boat. The larger man threw the load he was carrying into the boat and began pushing it out into the breakwater. The other man was checking the shoreline with a gun trained on the inside of the boat. He hadn't seen them.

Christian ran back to the saddle bags and took out his rifle. He might have one clear shot at the men before they entered the water properly. Racing back, he threw himself into loading the gun and preparing to take aim.

"You can't shoot. He might kill Ana." Ethan grasped the barrel of the rifle and pushed it down and away from them both.

"And if we reveal ourselves, he will kill her anyway." Desperation and fear edged Christian's tone. The situation was untenable. Ana had become his whole raison d'etre. To lose her was unthinkable. "I can't let them leave with her."

Ethan gave him a look that showed both understanding and disdain. Well, Ethan could think him a fool but life without Ana was no longer possible. It hadn't been from the moment she had set foot on his ship looking for an audience with Blackheart. There was simply no future for him without her and it was that thought that had him moving through the trees toward the beach.

Ana had come to, almost immediately as her body hit the floor of the wagon. Head throbbing, her initial instinct was to lie completely still, as if the slightest of movements might trigger such pain that she would be rendered unable to rise from her bed for days. However, when she understood not only where she was but what had occurred, and that she was not falling victim to a vexation, she chose to keep still, so as not to alert her captors. Breathing evenly, she resisted the urge to crack her eyelids, relying instead on her senses to understand when they were getting closer to the water.

There was no talking in the wagon but given how narrow the space was, she was quite certain that there could be no more than one person in the tray of the wagon with her. Another would be driving. Certainly, as the wagon started to descend a hill, the terse instruction given by the man nearest to her and the answered grunt from the driver, indicated that she was correct. Ice froze in her veins when she recognised the first voice as Jackson Hyde's. When the wagon drew to a stop and a large figure hoisted her over his shoulders, she made her body as slack and heavy as possible, hoping that this alone would slow him down. Once she was head down, over the man's shoulders, she permitted herself a quick look at her surroundings. They were near the opening to the tunnels near Faversham, she was quite sure of it.

With a grunt, she was thrust into the bottom of a rowing boat. The boat was tossed back and forth in the small waves, each movement allowing her a moment to make subtle movements to organise her skirts so that she could move when required. She observed her abductors, two men, who were both preoccupied with getting the boat safely out beyond the breakwater. Pressing her palms against the wet wood, she tensed her body in preparation. As she gingerly felt around in the bottom of the boat, she held her breath as she located and wrapped her hand around the handle of an oar.

Grating of sand changed to a glide and thump.

"'Urry up, get in." The large man issued the instruction and the boat dipped further into the water as Hyde jumped into the boat. The blighter had a pistol in his hand, coward that he was, and she determined that she would at least find some way to relieve him of his weapon.

Ana briefly considered the opportunity at hand. Without hesitation, she hefted the oar up with one fluid a movement and she swiped at Hyde's arm with as much force as she could muster. The unexpected movement caught him unawares and the gun went flying several feet in the air and a fair distance out into the water.

"You stupid bitch!" The large man reached into the boat and pressed a heavy palm over her throat, forcing her back down into the base of the boat. Hyde, who had screamed like a girl at her attack, was rubbing his arm as he looked out to where the gun had sunk under the water. The large man's words called his attention back to her.

"No. Don't hurt her." For a moment Ana thought he might be showing some innate humanity. "I shall be the only one who puts marks on her body." The look of pure evil in his eyes stilled her. The big man jumped into the boat and pushed her into a seated position so that he could gain access to the oars. The quick insertion of the row-locks slowed him for only a moment and then he began the dip and pull that would carry them to whatever destination Hyde had in mind.

A large wave crashed into the boat and swung them sideways for a moment. Hyde lost his balance momentarily and Ana was forced to grip the sides of the boat to stop herself from falling. Hyde concentrated completely on her, watching, she supposed, to see that she did not attempt another attack. The other man was looking back over his shoulder, trying to right the direction of the boat into the waves. Therefore neither man could see the two horsemen racing across the sand toward them. Just as Ana had no doubt that it was Christian and Ethan riding to rescue her, she also had no doubt that if the boat made it past the breakwater, their efforts might prove fruitless. So when the second wave hit them full force and swung them off course, she used gripped the edge of the boat and threw all of her weight to tip the boat and its inhabitants over.

Despite the warmth of the summer, the water was icy cold on her skin and her sodden skirts immediately weighed her down. Worse still, they had traveled further than she had expected and the water was over her head. She began to sink like a stone below the icy froth, her unprepared lungs filling with the salty brine. Panic set in and she kicked hard, using her arms and legs as best she could to propel her to the surface. When she broke through, she gasped for air before another big wave crashed over her head and dragged her under once more. The pressure inside her head and chest caused terror to take over and she felt her energy flagging. With no hope of gaining the surface again, Ana prayed that Christian would find peace and mourned the family and life that she would never live with him. The simple thought of not having his children energised her to try for the surface once more but when she tried to kick out she discovered that her dress had snagged on a rock. Tugging hard took away the last of her strength and air and she felt herself losing consciousness.

Christian had seen the moment when Ana had knocked the gun out of the man's hand. Both he and Ethan took off at a run, launching themselves onto their horses without the aid of the stirrups. Once more, Christian's heart pounded out of his chest as the horses thundered over the low tide sands toward the water. The boat was making progress out through the waves and he despaired of making it to them without having to swim. Confidencet in his abilities was one thing, but full-hardy attempts to out-swim the momentum of an oarsman at full-tilt was another. However, that did not slow him down.

When the boat swung around the first time, he saw the fear and recognition on Ana's face. He also felt his anger rising at the sight of Hyde sitting in the bow of the boat, struggling to keep his balance. The loaded rifle was still in Christian's hand and he didn't think twice about raising it and taking aim. Assessing who presented the most immediate danger, Christian watched as the boat swung around a second time and Ana use the momentum to throw herself and everyone else overboard. Pulling up his horse, Christian balanced and took aim at the larger man, shooting him cleanly through the chest. Blood spread quickly through the water, as the man's body tipped and rolled him face down.

Glancing around, Christian saw that Ethan had run Hyde down and had the spluttering man by the scruff of the neck as he dragged him ashore without dismounting. However, when Christian searched the water he could no longer see Ana anywhere. Panic choked his throat and he resisted the urge to launch himself into the water. Finally, some distance away, he saw the blue of her dress as the top half of her body broke the surface. Relief turned quickly to fear when he realised that she was not lifting her head, her arms floating listlessly outstretched in the water.

"Ana! No!" The horse was moving before he understood his own instructions. The progress was slow but they made it to her side. Reaching into the water, he dragged with a loud grunt, hoisting her up over the horse. Her skirt ripped from the bodice as he did so but he was beyond caring for her modesty. He turned and directed the horse back to the beach, as quickly as he could.

Leaping off the horse, he carried Ana down with him and placed her on the sand, away from the water. Tears flooded his eyes and his body was chilled with fear as much as the cold of the water. Placing his palms on her chest, he pushed gently but firmly, hoping that she might breathe for him. Nothing happened. It took a moment before he understood that the anguished sobbing were from his own mouth.

"Ana! My darling, please. Please don't leave me." His arms slipped under her armpits and he dragged her limp and cold body against his, hoping that his warmth might revive her. "Please, please."

Crying in earnest, he wrapped his arms around her torso and squeezed her tightly back against his chest. Praying hard, he begged God to help her, to help him. He knew he was unworthy, he knew that he had committed sins and must make amends but not with her life. Not with his precious Ana. Somewhere in the wordless prayer and guttural tears, her tiny frame shuddered and coughed. Releasing his grip, he allowed her to move and heave, sensing that she needed room. Her body heaved again, expelling a substantial flow of liquid and bile. Christian rubbed her back and held her so that the foreign substance could be emitted with as much ease as possible. She coughed a little more at his urging and his body flooded with relief as she began to breath more than expel.

Hugging her close, Christian offered up prayers of gratitude in silence. Ethan had found a way to secure Hyde and had him thrown over the back of his horse before moving in to check on Christian and Ana. The touching scene stilled him. This was not the man he remembered from his youth. The Christian he knew was cold and distant with people he didn't know well. He kept to himself, wanting to cause no pain or problem for his family. The Christian he knew belonged only to the sea, and even that was a begrudging mistress. This Christian was a man who was crying for his soul. For the woman he loved above all else. This Christian had found a love that he vowed would never exist in this life for him. Ethan found himself praying that Ana would live and fighting back his own tears when she took her first shuddering breaths. He wanted this. He ached for it for himself. It was with deep sadness that he knew Mia had forever robbed him of that opportunity.


	20. Chapter 20

**Dear Readers, **

**Well, this is it. The final chapter of Fifty Shades of Blackheart and still so many unanswered questions. First, my apologies for making you wait so long. Life got in the way of fan fiction, a situation I have had very little control over. It hurt my soul to abandon writing and so I have made a commitment to get back to it, only now, I want to honor my writing dreams and shift away from a 'fan fiction only' lifestyle. The Blackheart series will continue on my blog (check my profile for the link) for those of you who are committed to following their intrigues. Mia and Ethan have quite a story to tell, James and Leila will entertain and thrill in the ballrooms of London and France and Kate and Elliot will crack the secrets of the highest levels of government. There may even be a backstory of the previous generation of pirates and spies. The progress may be slow, so I apologise in advance. For everyone who reviewed over the life of this story - thank you so much. **

**I almost broke the 500 barrier. I doubt I will get there now as I will have lost many readers and reviewers over the last few months with my absence. C'est la vie. Thank you to all of you for your insights, encouragement and kindness. Thanks to the team of people who encouraged, checked and shaped this story behind the scenes - you know who you are. A special thanks to Vanessa who allows me to continue to brainstorm ideas and storylines and who asks me the hard questions along the way. You have been my rock!**

**If you have been reading my other stories - I still have a long way to go with Making Mia and will continue to chip away at that story here. As you can see, I seem to have a thing about spies and intrigue, no matter what era they occur in. Who knew? **

**As always, thanks to EL James and Stephanie Meyer for their wonderful characters - the gifts that keep giving. And I pay tribute to the brilliant writers of historical romance who guide my words.  
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**Love to you all, Sasha xxx**

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><p><em>London, 1822<em>

_Pacing and praying had become part of Christian's repertoire. How long would he be left outside her room? How long would he have to wait before he could be reassured that she would survive her ordeal? What if she died? What would become of him if she left him here alone? The pain in his chest would not leave, only sharpening further each time he arrived at this point and he had to sit in an effort to bring his breathing under control. He hadn't felt so completely out of control since…_

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><p>Trevelyan Grange, 1817<p>

… Ana was carefully placed in the back of the wagon with Christian nursing her battered and bruised body in his lap. Securing the horse carrying Hyde to the back of the wagon, Ethan drove the wagon back to the manor at a slow and steady pace. Far too slow for Christian's liking. Every now and then he would glance at Hyde's unconscious and prone form with such malevolence that it was a blessing Ana kept her eyes shut against the light. She would not recognize her husband's rage.

"Stop looking at him." Christian's eyes went to her face, expecting to see her reprimand in those clear blue eyes, but her lids were tight. "I can feel your body tense each time you do. You will need to leave him to the magistrate along with your heightened need for vengeance."

A small hand reached up for his cheek and he pressed his face into her palm. The coolness of her skin a soothing balm against the deep-seated need to kill. The rasp in her voice made her words barely audible, a function, Christian surmised, of the damage the cold salty brine had done to her lungs. She was, at least, breathing evenly.

"He deserves to die." His words formed harsh against the breeze sending a shudder through her core. This small movement brought him back to attend to her and he snuggled her against his warmth, knowing that the wet dress would be allowing a chill to permeate her form. "Are you too cold? I would remove the dress but I have nothing to clothe you in."

"Ah, protecting my modesty, Captain Grey. How very noble of you, Sir?" She smiled a wan smile until the coughing beset her and caused her to double over in pain.

Holding her closer still, he rubbed her back until the wracking cough subsided. His frown intensified with the wet, scratchy breaths from her choked lungs. There was too much fluid there for his liking. Ethan glanced back over his shoulder at them both and Christian gave him a nod of encouragement. They must not stop. They had to get her back to the manor, poste-haste. The tacit agreement was not to go through the tunnels where they would have to carry her on foot but to travel directly to the manor via the main roads. A slightly longer trip but infinitely more comfortable for her.

The shivering became too much and out of a sense of frustration, Christian ripped the fabric off Ana's body. Bereft of the heavy layer of cold, damp cloth, Ana was fighting to keep any body heat in.

"Take her dress and your shirt off and hold her." Ethan called over his shoulder. Christian grimly set about doing just that as they approached the intersection of the roads. Just as they were about to turn in the direction of the Grange, a fine barouche approached on the road from Faversham. The open carriage contained three ladies of the area and the Baron Blethwick. A look of pure shock went through all as they took in the sight of the half dressed Viscount of Trevelyan and his wife, huddled together in the back of an open wagon driven by the rather untidy and wild looking Earl of Ravensthwaite, followed by a fine steed with an unconscious Jackson Hyde strapped across the saddle. The collective gasp was enough to rouse Ana who smiled wanly and waved at the ladies, who in turn were in far too much shock not to wave back. Christian barely spared them a glance as Ethan eased the wagon ahead and onto the Grange road.

Ana giggled in Christian's arms. "Oh, they will be dining out on that particular sight for months to come. I do wish I could be a fly on the Baron's parlour wall when the neighbours all gather for afternoon tea." Coughing overtook her momentarily and Christian stroked her back, urging her to sit up. The fury of her lung congestion soon passed quickly into giggles again and she snuggled into Christian's chuckling chest dozing off until the carriage pulled into the gates of the Grange.

Taylor had been the first to meet them as Ethan climbed down from the carriage and handed the reigns to a stable hand. Christian lifted Ana down to Ethan's waiting arms before climbing down himself and taking her again. The muscles rippled across his broad back but he could have been carrying a feather for the way that he swiftly made for the house.

"Taylor, remove Mr Hyde to the cellar, if you would be so kind. I believe that Lord Trevelyan will want to question him later." Ethan's voice commanded as much as requested and Taylor was quick to follow the order. Meanwhile the household had sprung into action to address the needs of their mistress. Within half an hour the doctor arrived at the house. Christian had not let Ana's body go while Mrs Jones set about heating water for a bath. Once her body temperature had been brought back to a level of normalcy the doctor took his leave, instructing them to watch for resulting lung fever.

Three days passed with Christian hardly leaving Ana's side. The coughing had subsided into alternating waves of high fevers and bouts of intense pain. He knew when it was her head bothering her more than her chest. Her body would still, her breathing shallow, as if the slightest movement would cause her to scream in agony. As much as it bothered him to watch her, he knew that the headache was a better option.

Whenever the wet cough choked her body with spasms as she tried to clear her lungs, she would double over in the bed. This simple movement would bring tears to her eyes, as her head threatened to implode. During these moments, Christian would support her body and neck as carefully as he could to try to ease her way. Consequently, he was approaching 72 hours with very little sleep. Mrs Jones had kept him supplied with food and taken over nursing duties when he would allow it, but the care fell squarely on his shoulders and he was unwilling to have it any other way.

On the third day, all signs of fever broke and Ana slept peacefully. Ethan and Taylor took the opportunity to draw him from her side, once Mrs Jones had ensured that he had had a few hours sleep himself.

"Hyde is claiming that he acted alone. He told us that his accomplice was hired in the stews of London." Ethan was leaning his shoulder against the study wall while Taylor delivered his report. The only betrayal of tension was a the grim set of his mouth. Christian looked from one man to the other, assessing, not the information but the delivery. If Christian had not been so caught in his own trevails, he might have noted that Ethan had cut his hair and was wearing a dress jacket for the first time since setting foot on English soil.

"You don't believe him, I take it." Christian's tone demanded a quick response. His mind was still upstairs, by his wife's side.

"No, Sir. After we secured Mr Hyde in the cellar, Lord Kavanagh and I fetched the body from the beach. I recognised him straight away. Hyde's accomplice was Harold Stark, Sir." Taylor said the name as if it should mean something to Christian, and at some subconscious level it did, but he couldn't place it. That lack of connection annoyed him. He didn't have the time or patience for games. Taylor read his employer's mood. "Barbary Coast, Sir."

Christian's body stiffened at the reference while Ethan gave Taylor a questioning look.

"What happened on the Barbary Coast?"

On Christian's signal, Taylor took up the story. "Harold Stark was a quartermaster on a sister ship from our fleet. We had won a particularly long and arduous battle with the French, off the coast of Algiers, before retreating to Gibraltar to regroup and replenish the ships. Many of the seamen had gone ashore on furlough for a night of well-earned revelry and Harold Stark had, in a wildly drunken state, raped and nearly killed a servant of the Governor's household. As senior officer, the Captain had him court-marshalled and he was due for transportation when the Governor stepped in and pardoned him. Stark was summarily discharged from the navy and sent back to London. No one quite knew what had caused the change of heart but it was set aside as the fleet headed back to the Spanish coast. Speculation was that Stark was under the protection of Lord Castlereagh."

"Who was the Governor?" Ethan's relaxed stance wasn't fooling anyone.

"Lord Lincoln, Sir," Taylor replied. The long pause that followed had Christian curious about Ethan's question.

"Why do you ask?"

Another silence before Ethan pushed away from the wall and crossed to the window. He reached out to slide the lace curtain open as if he expected to see some clandestine movement afoot. Without turning he spoke.

"I've seen Stark before although I did not know his name. He was working for the British envoy to Paris when Mallet and I were released from La Force." The fact that Ethan and Mallet had been released from La Force was news to Christian. Until now, he and the others had believed that Ethan had escaped. Ethan continued to stare into the distance and Christian had no idea if his actions were another ploy to feign disinterest or if he really could sense a presence beyond the perimeter. Whatever was drawing his attention, this was the first time that Ethan had, of his own volition, talked to him about his time in France. Christian was torn between finding out more about the man who had tried to abduct Ana and hearing more about his friend's ordeal. After a while, Ethan let the fabric drop back into place and turned his attention back to the room. "I am not sure that Mr Stark's presence here is connected."

Christian scrutinized his friend's face but it was as if the shutters had closed and Ethan was clearly not prepared to say any more on the subject. The understanding that he was being deliberately blocked from some potential mitigating evidence against Hyde or Stark bothered him but he knew better than to press Ethan. Being a puppet of the spymaster carried its own code of conduct and Ethan's duty was to Haverstock, not to the Viscount Trevelyan or the attempt on his wife's life.

"So if Stark is so well-connected, how did he end up back in hovels? Had he fallen on hard times?" Taylor had obviously made the connections that Ethan was trying to avoid explaining. Christian caught a wink from Taylor and understood the message being conveyed. Ethan might not be able to talk about it but Christian and Taylor could. If Ethan chose to confirm or deny any of their speculation by word or deed, it need not contain any detail. A simple nod or shake of the head or a strategically placed clearing of the throat would suffice.

"I don't know. But who is to say that he has fallen on hard times? His presence with Hyde could be well-planned." Christian traversed the room with a speculative pace.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you, Sir?"

"Right now, I'm not sure what I believe." Glancing back at Ethan, he caught an almost imperceptible nod of agreement. "Hyde had his own motives for abducting Anastasia. The toad had proposed to her on several occasions, after all, and been rejected each time. Since his machinations to date have surrounded gaining control of Sir Raymond's estate and securing Ana's hand along with it, we must assume that to be motive enough."

Christian turned to make his way back across the room when Ethan's words stopped him in his tracks. "However, that does not explain the presence of Mr Stark."

"What if Hyde was merely convenient? A way of Stark getting close to the Grange, if you will, Sir?" Taylor was playing this speculative role very well. Ethan's head moved in more obvious assent. "Perhaps, Mr Stark was gathering evidence, Sir."

"Yes, but evidence of what?" Ethan cleared his throat and Christian's fears were confirmed. Stark had come to gather first-hand evidence that the Earl of Ravensthwaite had arrived on English soil. This changed everything. If word had gotten to London that Ethan was at the Grange then that information had to have come from a local source. The family had been sworn to secrecy and Sir Raymond had removed Lady Caroline to the country estate rather than returning her to the city. Hyde had not been on the estate long enough to have known of Ethan's presence and Haverstock would protect Ethan with his dying breath. No. Someone must have recognised Ethan out riding on the estate and relayed that news north.

"I think the time might have come for me to return to London." Ethan's voice was low and quiet.

Within a week, Ethan had decamped to London, leaving Christian to wait out Ana's condition. While Christian was driven by the need to find resolution on his friend's behalf, he was even more anxious that his wife reach full recovery. He had been tempted to remove himself from her room at night, thinking that she needed space to heal. However, night after night, he found himself holding her over the edge of the bed and rubbing her back as she coughed up the liquid that refused to budge. She seemed to be more settled when he was on hand to attend her needs and he was prepared to do anything that would bring her rest.

They had to wait three full weeks for the local magistrate, the Earl of Summerton, to return from his trip north. During that time, Hyde had railed against his incarceration at the Grange, even though Taylor had ensured that the man was housed in relative comfort. When the Earl had sent a message to announce that he would be stopping by, Ana insisted that she felt well enough to greet him in the parlour. Against his better judgment, Christian carried his wife down to the sunny front room and settled her on a chaise with blankets tucked about her frail frame.

Hyde blanched when Ana launched into a coughing fit as he was brought into the room. It took only half an hour for the Earl to elicit the whole sordid tale from Hyde about a drunken night in a London tavern and being approached by Harold Stark, who offered him assistance. Hyde described Stark as unusually enthusiastic about his plan and when Hyde had asked Stark what he hoped to gain besides coin, the man had muttered something about paying back a debt. Christian omitted any mention of Ethan and the connection to Stark from his testimony but the Earl didn't need any more evidence to convict Hyde of abducting of Lady Trevelyan with, he deduced, the intent of demanding ransom or causing bodily harm. The Earl made arrangements for Hyde to be transported to the colonies to live out his days as a guest of His Majesty.

The whole affair seemed to sap Ana of all energy and it was with a worried frown that Christian returned her to her bed. She slept fitfully that night and by the next morning, her coughing had become something more sinister as she spent hour after hour emptying the meager contents of her stomach. Mrs Jones made a range of plain offerings which Ana took willingly. Her appetite did not completely wain and the colour returned to her cheeks but her illness ebbed and flowed for the next few days.

Christian had taken up his usual station at her bedside, book in hand to read to her. However, a delivery had arrived this particular morning that he was keen to read first. "A letter has arrived from Scotland."

Ana smiled, weakly. "Is it from Kate?"

"No, its from Elliot. Shall I read it to you?" Ana nodded, her eyes flashing disappointment that Kate had not written to her for almost a month.

"Dear brother," Christian began in a strong, clear voice. "It has been some weeks since we departed for Scotland and there is much to tell you. It is not my desire to do so here, as there is some news best told face to face. Needless to say, our merry band are all well, although, perhaps a little homesick for London and the bosom of our family. Young Nicholas seems to have grown three or four inches in the time we have been away but he asks for you daily, and Mrs Jones, of course. We have promised him that he will see you and his new aunt, Anastasia, very soon in the capital. Am I correct in assuming so? On a more concerning note, I am worried about Mia. She is anxious and frightened for Nicholas' safety, jumping at every shadow. While we were at the Grange, Mia received some disturbing letters. They gave every indication that the author knew of her connection to both Nick and Ethan. In her anxious state, she shared the letters with Kate who also thought the worst. Hence our rather rapid trip north. I thought it best to stay with them all, to ensure their safe passage. Now, however, we have heard the news that Ethan has returned to London and Kate is determined to be at her brother's side as he reenters society. Mia is refusing to travel but I cannot leave her and Nick alone in Scotland, nor will I allow Kate to travel alone to London. So the long and short of it is that we shall be in London within a fortnight and I hope to see you and my new sister, dear Anastasia there. Your loving brother, Lord Elliot Grey."

"Perhaps in a day or two we shall be able to leave for London." Ana sighed as she sank back into the pillows with a sigh.

Christian frowned. "Yes. Perhaps."

Only, they did not make it to London that month, nor the next few, and therefore were not present when Ethan and Mia saw each other for the first time in years, nor to hear the news that Elliot could not write in his letter. Instead, after another three weeks of energy-sapping illness, Ana and her doctor deduced that she was expecting their first child. Christian had been horrified at the potential for Ana's reaction but instead of the resistance that he expected, she moved quickly from fearful to resigned. Her quiet acceptance worried Christian more than if she had chosen to scream and rail at him.

A few weeks later, Christian had taken up his habitual position dozing in the library chair, when the scream had echoed through the halls, rousing him from his sleep. Moving with haste through the darkened halls, he ran into Mrs Jones emerging from the servant stairs with a candle in her hand. They looked at each other in shock when the scream sounded again. They reached Ana's room and threw open the door to see her crouched in fear on her pillows. Christian glanced around the room quickly, looking for some external menace before he finally took in the red stain on the bed sheets.

"Ana!" He ran to the bed and reached for her but she pulled away from his hands, her body trembling. "Darling, please, I'm here. Show me where you are hurt."

Once more he reached for her and once more she scuttled back in the bed, pressing her body against the head board. Slowly she brought her shaking hand to her face, holding up bloody fingers. The sight set her off screaming again and Christian went to reach for her again when Mrs Jones laid a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, God, I'm so sorry." Her face twisted in anguish as she choked out apology after apology through tracks of tears. Mrs Jones moved past Christian and wrapped an arm around Ana's shoulders, pulling the young woman into her body.

"There, there, lass. It's not your fault. Shhh…. Hush now. Calm yourself." Mrs Jones was comforting Ana in earnest now, as she buried her head in the older woman's shoulder, her mouth open in silent screams. Christian was at a complete loss, desperate to find out where her injury was and who had done this to her. Then Ana moved and he noticed the heavy read stains on the bottom of her night gown.

"My God, Anastasia!" Christian sank to his knees, taking her blood-stained hands in his. "My love. My sweet, sweet love."

A teary-eyed Mrs Jones moved to the side and let Christian take over in comforting his wife. "I shall arrange a bath and call the doctor, Sir." Then she retreated from the room turning her back on the young couple's pain.

Late summer turned to autumn, days into weeks. They each retreated into their own private pain, unsure or unwilling to reach out to the other. At night, Christian would hold Ana as she cried herself to sleep before rising to spend the rest of his evening in bottom of a brandy decanter. During the day, Christian would ride the estate, throwing himself into physical labor with his tenants. Meanwhile, Ana would walk the cliffs alone. It was there that Christian found her, the wind swirling around her tragic figure. He swallowed deeply, unsure if he had the energy to step inside her sadness.

Her head turned at his approach, even though she kept the rest of her frame in contained stillness.

"It's getting late and the day turns cold. I brought you another shawl." She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you. Your kindness is unsettling but I welcome it." Her voice was soft, formal. This was the tenure of their conversation of late. Lacking any of the nuances that lovers share. Her reserve pulled at his heart as he settled the woollen layer about her shoulders. He was about to withdraw when her hand snaked out and covered his. "Do you hate me?"

The question hurt and confounded him. "I beg your pardon?" Perhaps, he was not hearing clearly.

"Do you hate me, Christian?" He had waited for weeks for her talk, but he had not expected this.

He stepped away placing some much needed distance between her question and his answer. Eventually, he offered some carefully chosen words. "Hate is a wasteful emotion. I don't know why you would ask such a thing."

She lowered her eyes with a sigh. "You're being evasive. It doesn't become you." The tone of her voice held a lifetime of fatigue. "It is a simple enough question. Do you blame me for what happened?"

Christian stared, unseeing, out to sea. Her persistence unsettled him. "How can I blame you? It was God's will, not yours."

"But you knew that I had my doubts about having children. You must have your suspicions."

Did he? There were moments, when the liquor took hold in the dead of night, that he fleetingly wondered if she had gathered that particular knowledge from the dockside whores. In the cold light of day, as sobriety took hold, he knew that she was not capable of taking her own child's life. There was no doubt that she needed to hear that certainty in his response.

"No, Ana. I do not hate you. I saw the light in your eyes when the doctor confirmed you were with child. If there is any blame, it is with Hyde and Stark for putting you through such an ordeal. Perhaps, if you had not been ill from their mistreatment, you might not have lost…" His throat choked with emotion, enough to make Ana turn to face him.

"Is it wrong of me to want a child with you? Even with the knowledge of what that might mean?"

"What are you talking about? We discussed this. You're not mad. Your mother, God bless her, might have avoided her dementia with better medical treatment and less intervention from Hyde. Our children may have their own issues but they will be ours and they will be loved." He made sure that she was looking in his eyes. "No. Matter. What."

For the next few moments, they simply looked upon each other, their hearts reaching through their eyes. They willed each other to see the truth. To see the unconditional nature of their love. Christian's eyes welled with unshed tears as he fought to hold his stronger emotions in check. This small powerhouse of a female, held his heart in her hands. From the moment she had burst into his cabin aboard the Ruby Queen, she had held him in thrall. He had fallen in love with her from the first impatient tap of her tiny feet, the first challenge from her smart mouth. She lifted his soul, believed him capable of taking on the world and stood beside him as he did exactly that. There was nothing that he would not offer her. Nothing he would not do for her. He had held back from sharing his pain because hers seemed so much greater. Everything word he had held back in recent weeks had been about giving her the space to grieve. Now, she was reaching out to him and he would prostrate himself to have his wife back.

"Ana, nothing about this changes how I feel about you. I will love you until the end of my days and beyond. With or without children. You are mine." Before she could glance away, he bowed his head to hold her gaze. "And I, will forever, be yours."

"I wanted this baby. I wanted it so much." Tears flowed too easily down her cheeks as she fell into his arms.

"I know, my love." Christian murmured into her hair as he tried to comfort her. His own sadness moistened her tresses as the turbulent wind whipped around them. "I know."

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><p><em>London, 1822<em>

_"__CHRISTIAN!" Her blood-curdling scream broke through his reverie and he was on his feet before he could register a clear thought. "Get your arse in here!"_

_Reaching for Ana's hand involved pushing the well-meaning disapproval of the midwife aside. He did not care. All emotion was in his throat as he gripped his wife's small hand in his and breathed with her through the next contraction. She almost broke his fingers with the force of her grip, bringing tears to his eyes for all the wrong reasons. He willed them back, knowing that if she could take the pain, he could, too._

_When the wave of agony was over, the midwife stepped in and tried to ease her back against the pillows but Ana would have none of it._

_"__No. I need to sit up. Move behind me. MOVE!" The order was shouted directly to Christian and there was no question that he would obey her. The midwife held her legs, scooting her forward in the bed so that Christian could slide his body behind._

_The next wave of pain gripped her and she in turn bit her fingers into Christian's thighs with such force that he rose off the bed. Biting his tongue rather than cry out, he waited for it to subside before lowering them both down again. Ana leaned forward and between gritted teeth ordered him to rub her back. The next wave of pain had her up on her knees and facing him, her hands on his shoulders while he held her steady at the waist._

_"__Eeeh, m'lady. I've never seen such a thing." Christian was sure that most modern ladies did not engage so physically with their own labors, content instead to lie back and take orders from doctors and midwives. The thought of her spitting out some vitriolic curse that would condemn the midwife to the bowels of hell had him stepping in to mediate. _

_"__If my wife wants to swing from the chandeliers, we shall permit it. Do you understand?" Christian bit out without taking his eyes from Ana's. Her hair limp with sweat, clung to her face. Her breaths came in long steady pants. _

_"__I hate you." _

_"__I know." Christian tried not to smile. He'd seen this before. His lady was about to become the most unladylike creature on earth. "You're doing fine, Ana. You're nearly there."_

_"__Nearly there? Nearly there? I've been nearly there for the last eight hours, you scurvy swine! You did this to me. I hope you rot in the pits of hell, you…aaaarrrghhh!"_

_He rubbed her back in broad circles and breathed with her through the worst of the pain. "There, there. And yet, you still love me."_

_"__Yes, I love you, you fucker but I will never let you touch me again. Do you understand?"_

_He smiled. "Yes, my love. I will remind you of that when you beg me to touch your body and take you to heaven."_

_She leveled him with a look of pure malevolence. "You are so full of yourself, Lord Trevelyan." Ana spat out her words between desperate breaths. Another wave was about to hit and she tried to move._

_"__What are you doing?"_

_"__I'm trying to roll over, you stupid pirate. Your child is coming and I'll be damned if I will do this with my naked arse pointing at the ceiling!" Trying not to laugh, Christian helped her settle back against him when the next wave hit with full force._

_"__Is that normal?" He frowned as he peered over Ana's shoulder at the small mound of hair on what could only be a head. Having been somewhat preoccupied as a first time father, Christian had not taken in all of the elements of the processes of childbirth when his son was born. The second time around, he was more relaxed, although the fear of losing Ana hovered nearer to his heart that he cared to think about._

_"__She's crowning, Sir. Next push should get the rest of the 'ead out and then we'll be nearly there." Christian was relieved to see that the woman didn't take her focus off the goings on between his wife's legs, instead, feeling around with her hands, that all was as it should be with a sage nodding of head between Ana's heartfelt panting._

_"__Bear down, m'lady." The midwife called out from between Ana's legs. Christian braced himself to support her for the last push. A moment later, a small scream rent the air as the midwife pulled the babe into the light of the room for his parents to see. "Tis a fine baby girl."_

_The midwife laid the babe on her mother's breast and brought Christian a warm cloth to bathe it's skin before she returned to attending to his wife. Both parents cried gently as they held their daughter._

_"__You caused your mother a lot of grief, young lady." Christian encouraged the babe to take his finger as he wrapped his wife and daughter in his arms._

_"__Yes, and you must promise me that you shall continue to cause your father a great deal of grief from this day forth." Ana smiled down at her child. "Phoebe Ella."_

_"__Pheobe Ella." Christian repeated. "Perfect. Just like her mother."_

_Just then a squeal was heard beyond the door, followed by the pounding of feet and a deep booming voice. "I'll get you, you little pirate."_

_"__I thought Elliot was taking Teddy away to Bellevue." Ana snuggled the blanket more firmly around her new daughter who had begun to fuss._

_"__Apparently, Teddy wanted to stay here to meet his new sibling and threatened to make Uncle Elliot walk the plank." Edward 'Teddy' Christian Trevelyan Grey was nothing if not precocious. At three years old, he had the run of the household and the Ruby Queen, if his father would let him have his way. Certainly, his 'uncle' James was a terrible influence on the young lad who was already showing all the signs of becoming the next Captain Blackheart. That was if his cousin Ava didn't beat him to the task._

_"__You permit him too much, Christian," Ana scolded._

_" __I have nothing to do with it. I am overridden by his uncles and aunts, as you well know." Christian reached over and tucked his little finger into his daughter's hands, allowing her to suckle gently. "Besides, you know that Nicholas is likely to be the next Blackheart."_

_"__Let's just hope that Blackheart is not needed again in their lifetime."_

_With an uncharacteristic and somewhat nostalgically, wistful tone, Christian replied, "And where would the adventure be in that."_


End file.
